


Fading Immortality

by Tsilky



Series: Fading Immortality [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dawnguard, F/F, Some story events changed in order, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2019-09-25 05:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 167,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsilky/pseuds/Tsilky
Summary: Set more than 50 years after the defeat of Alduin, the wood elven dragonborn Natalie has withdrawn from life in Skyrim, away from the prying eyes and judgemental stares of the people she had risked her life to save. As is the way with all heroes, Tamriel has a way of drawing them back into the fray, no matter how hard they may try to stay away.Vampire attacks have become more and more common throughout Skyrim, and the Dawnguard have been re-established to stop them. One member of the group still believes that the Dragonborn will help them, despite the protests of his comrades, the utter dismissal of his superiors, and the rumours that she had died years before.





	1. Resurrecting a Legend

**Middas, 11:23am, 9 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Falkreath Marketplace**

The hooded elf glanced at the heavily armoured man across the marketplace. He was trying his hardest to make it look like he hadn’t been staring at her, shifting his weight from each foot. She turned away from the small food stall, briefly thanking the owner, and hoisted the bag of essentials over her shoulder.

She quickly strode away from the centre of the town, not needing another reason for the villagers to be suspicious, and this confrontation, was best had in private. The man, of course, did his best to follow without drawing the notice of his target. Her sharp ears picked up every footfall, every shift of the plate armour. Was he trying to give himself away to everyone within the village? By comparison, she was silent, her bare feet masking the sound that his plate could not.

The small stable on the edge of Falkreath held the restless mare, eager to be on her way. The elf tied the bag to the saddle before walking to the horse’s head. She stroked the long nose of the mighty beast, carefully checking the enchantments were still in place on the horse’s eyes, just one more guard to protect her identity from any overeager villager. Her right hand came to rest between the mare’s eyes, her left, carefully hidden inside the cloak, made the simple motions, heightening her awareness to all life around her.

The man had stopped just inside the gates, waiting for her to leave. His breathing was loud, heavy on her ears, the subtle purple glow through the wall shifting with every breath. Calmly mounting the midnight black mare, she started down the road, making no effort to put distance between them and her pursuer, even waiting slightly, to ensure they wouldn’t lose her. She could feel him exit the town and follow, careful to be out of her sight, but not lose her trail.

She started north, following the well-worn road through the trees. The subtle sound of a spell and the horses’ hooves, the only break to the silence of nature. She veered off the road, onto the all-too familiar path, this one vastly less travelled. The man followed, trying to quiet his horse’s protests at the change of terrain. She smiled, enjoying herself at this man’s obvious inexperience at following a target unseen and unheard. This was going to be too easy.

Finally reaching the modest house, she led the mare into the small stable, before going inside and closing the door just loud enough so that he would have heard it. She strung her bow and donned the mask, before striding up the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Torbald dismounted some distance from the house visible through the trees, tying the old thin mare to a low branch. “You really need to learn to be quiet, almost got us caught”. The horse snorted in response, eagerly snapping up the offered apple. “Well, here goes nothing.”

The Nord straightened his armour, doing his best to look as intimidating as possible, before marching up to the door. He knocked loudly, fully aware that this was the stupidest idea he had ever had. Only the songs of birds, and the gentle lapping of the lake on its shores was the response. He knocked again, louder this time, hopefully getting a different response from the inhabitant. Nothing, not even a footstep or the creak of a floorboard from within.

He prepared to knock a third time, but stopped his hand halfway, the snap of a bow string startling him, before the arrow reached its mark, striking his helmet.

 

* * *

 

The elf stared down from her perch on the tree branch at the visitor knocking on her front door. She’d been wrong. This was no man. He was barely old enough to grow his first beard, let alone be here to kill her. This was a boy. His armour poorly fitting his too-thin frame, the shield slung across his back clearly too heavy, the sword on his hip, an uncomfortable weight, forcing one shoulder slightly lower than the other. All she’d need was a warning to send him packing back to his mother.

Making the final adjustments to her mask, she notched an arrow, sighting down slightly off centre. The arrow found its mark, scraping the side of the boy’s helmet, an almighty sound of metal on bone her reward. It embedded itself in her door frame, the shaft straight across his vision.

“Please don’t kill me!” the boy yelped, his hands flying upwards.

“You’ve got 5 seconds to start running” her voiced boomed over the clearing, notching a second arrow, drawing the string back, “Or the next one hits somewhere you won’t walk away from.”

“Wait, please! I’m just here to talk!” He slowly turned, keeping his hands as far up as his armour would allow. He was greeted with the sight of the woman he’d come to see. Dressed in black-purple leather armour, she made for an intimidating sight, expertly balanced on a thin tree branch. “I...I... I mean we, need your help.”

“Oh? And who is we? Explain to me why my next arrow shouldn’t pierce between those pretty little eyes of yours. And also, explain how you knew where to find me, because from how you’re talking, I’m going to assume you know who I am, even though I don’t remember telling anyone in town.”

Slowly lowering his hands, he unslung his shield, the wooden disk now the only thing that may save his life. The shield had been crudely painted with a symbol, a flaming shield across a black background. “I’m part of the Dawnguard, and I was sent to ask for your help”.

Not even lowering her bow slightly, “And pray tell, what does this Dawnguard want with me?”

“They need your help to stop these vampire attacks, find out where they’re coming from”, his arms trembled under the weight of the shield and the threat of the arrow that could be launched at any moment, “and my grandfather told me where to find you, Dragonborn.”

She tensed up at the mention of her title, pulling her bow string a little further, “And who the fuck is your grandfather, that he would not only know who I am, but where to find me?” Her anger was plain in her voice, but the boy was not deterred.

“His name is Ralof. He said to say, ‘Never forget your fists, they’re always there to help’”. The name gave her pause, lowering her bow and loosening the tension on the weapon. “Weird saying, but he said you’d know what it meant.”

Slinging the bow over her back, she leapt from the tree, gracefully landing with bare feet on the ground metres below. The boy all but dropped the shield, his arms finally giving out under the weight of it. He stared as the woman approached him, her face hidden by an intricately carved black mask with matching hood. He swallowed hard when she stopped in front of him. The large height difference did nothing to ease the boy’s nervousness.

“Take off your helmet.”

“Sorry, I umm...”

“I said, Take. Off. Your. Helmet.” He obliged, the shield dropping completely, and slowly removed the helmet to reveal the boy she knew him to be, the bright spark of youth not quite gone from his eyes, despite Skyrim’s harshness. The blond hair was almost the same as the man from Helgen all those years ago, and the face so close they could be brothers, without the decades of aging that her friend had. He couldn't have been more than 20. “Well, you do certainly look like him, I’ll give you that” She started toward the house, brushing past him. “And that ‘weird saying’, is the best piece of advice he ever gave me, you’d do well to remember it.”

Reaching the door, she turned to see that the boy hadn’t moved from the spot, seemingly rooted. “Are you coming? Cause I’m not going to talk out here. Get inside.” He turned, almost tripping over his dropped shield as he moved inside.

 

* * *

 

The Dragonborn’s home was simple, a table in the centre of the main room, doors branching off the side and a staircase leading to the second floor. She shut the door behind her, locking it and tucking the key into a side pocket on her leg.

“Right, vampire attacks. Why would you come looking for me specifically and why should I help you? Right now, the only reason you’re standing here is because of your grandfather.”

“Well, surely you’ve heard about all these attacks? They’ve been going on for a good few months. As for why I came for you, Ralof said you’re the best archer and mage he’s ever seen, and your skill with a sword is a sight to behold as well.” Torbald’s eyes wandered up the elf’s body, her right arm bare, save for an archers two-fingered glove and runic symbols following the curve of the outside, her left covered in leather all the way down slightly past her elbow, where the most menacing gauntlet he’d ever seen covered the rest of it, “So, why not you? We need all the skilled warriors we can get to face these monsters, and if even half of what he told me is true, you’re our best option.”

Reaching up, she unfastened her mask, pulling her hood down with it and shook her long greying auburn hair out. Placing the mask carefully on the table, she raised and slammed both fists down, small sparks pulsing out from the impact, “Did he also tell you, that I specifically told him to never tell anyone where I am, no matter the reason, to make the world think I’m dead, to stop relying on me to fix every single fucking problem this godforsaken land has?! Did he tell you that I’m done with Skyrim? That I just want to live out my remaining years without everyone thinking I owe it to them to help them?! Just because old bearded men said I’m special, that makes everyone’s problems, my problems?! DOES IT?!”

Torbald had retreated as far as he could, pressing his back to the door while the Dragonborn’s yelling seemed to be getting louder with every syllable. The runes down her arm had begun glowing faintly blue, sparks of lightning crackling between them, “But but but…”

“BUT NOTHING!” she whirled to face him, the glow becoming more pronounced, her forest green eyes piercing, “I’m tired of this. Tired of fighting. I thought I could avoid it all by staying away, but no, it always finds a way to bring me back in!”

“Please, you may not want to help, but we need you, Skyrim needs you. One last time.” Torbald’s voice trembled with every word, not wanting to anger the most powerful person in Skyrim any further than he already had.

“Last time? You think this will be the last time?” she scoffed, “There’s always a next time. And the one after that, and after that! The last time will be the one that kills me, and I have no intention of dying just yet!” The glow had begun to fade from her arm, the lightning retreating inside her palm. She ran her hands through her hair, the gauntlet rattling as the metal plates scraped together. “Where is this Dawnguard anyway? I assume there’s some sort of base if you’re intending to fight a full-scale war against these things.”

“We do, Fort Dawnguard. It’s down near Riften. In Dayspring Canyon.”

“Right.” The Dragonborn ran her hands down her face, collecting her thoughts, “Well, off to Riverwood then.”

The boy’s face creased in confusion, “Wait, what? That’s in the opposite direction.”

“I have a bone to pick with my old friend Ralof. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind seeing your grandfather, and I feel the need for a, shall we say, friendly chat, with the old man.” She grinned at him, holding out her hand, “Natalie by the way. Should know each other’s name if we’re going to be travelling together.”

“Umm, Torbald.” He shook her hand nervously, unsure of what her sudden change in demeanour meant. She sauntered away from him into a side room, closing the door behind her. Torbald released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. Breathing hard, he collapsed next to the front door, putting his head between his knees. “Akatosh’s balls, what the fuck was that. Isran better appreciate this…”

 

* * *

 

Closing the door behind her, she leaned her head against it, exhaling roughly. Why her? Couldn’t they just leave her alone for once? But no, it was always her. Always the all-powerful Dragonborn that had to save the day. She looked down at her left hand, flexing the painful joints. She grimaced, the reminder every day of what she had sacrificed for Skyrim and for all Tamriel.

Taking her bow off her shoulder, she walked to the enchanting bench, laying her arm down and carefully restructuring the gauntlets magic, lessening the pain slowly. Leaning on the bench she toyed with the gauntlet’s plates by way of habit, its daedric metal glowing faintly red in the dim light of the magic brazier. Flexing her fingers back and forth, the pain now absent, she strode across the room to her equipment.

The rest of her adventuring gear came together quickly. The bandolier fastened around her waist with spots for potions and small pouches for any number of things. The ebony shortsword strapped to her hip. Three daggers of varying materials, one elvish, one daedric and one dragonbone. One on each thigh with the elvish at the small of her back.

The elf’s waist length hair was carefully braided out of the way and tucked into the hood attached to her armour. The basic archer's gauntlet on her right hand was swapped out for a more armoured version, covering her outer arm to her elbow. The last piece, a small deep green crystal, tucked into a side pocket on her belt.

_So, pulled once more in to the fray my sweet_. Natalie instantly straightened up, eyes widening, ears twitching. The voice that echoed through her mind was not her own. _Couldn’t hide forever_. The voice laughed, sending chills down Natalie's back. _The mighty Dragonborn called to duty once more. To save the people. Do they really deserve it?_

“What do you want?” Natalie asked the Daedric Princess through gritted teeth.

Nocturnal giggled through their connection, _What, I can’t check up on my favourite champion? You're still wearing my armour after all these years, my Nightingale. And you didn’t answer my question. Do they deserve it? After what they did to you? I’m sure Ralof would understand._

Natalie hung her head, furrowing her brow, “Ugh, probably not. Ralof doesn’t know what they did anyway. The only ones who did are dead, I made sure of that. I’ve got to give him a chance to explain himself, don’t I?”

_That’s for you to decide. I look forward to seeing what you do._ Natalie shuddered as she felt Nocturnal's presence vacate her mind. The Daedric Princess hadn’t spoken to her in years, what made what she was doing now special? What did Nocturnal know that she didn’t? Questions that’s would never be answered, as the Daedric Lords did not make a habit of telling any of their mortal allies the whole story.

Re-shouldering her Bow and quiver, tying them in place, she unlocked the door to the main room, catching Torbald holding up a dagger, which he promptly dropped, clattering against the floor. “So, I guess your grandfather didn’t teach you it’s rude to touch other people's things”. He quickly picked it up, placing it back on its holder.

He rubbed his neck sheepishly, not meeting her gaze. He quickly made his way back to door, careful not to touch or bump anything. He cleared his throat, “Sorry...who were you talking to?”

“Better if you don’t know, and don’t ask again.” She fastened a heavy midnight black travelling cloak around her shoulders, completely hiding all of her weapons, save for the top of the bow, poking out the top. She flicked the hood of her armour outside the cloak, picking up her mask from the table and hooking it on to her belt. “Let us be off then.”

 

* * *

  

The two mismatched companions rode slowly down the main road away from the Dragonborn’s house. The heavily armoured, but obviously inexperienced Nord on an underfed mare, in stark contrast to the lightly armoured Wood Elf, with far too much experience riding an imposing beast, blood red eyes glowing out.

When Natalie had taken her mare out of its stable and removed the enchantments around its eyes, the colour changing from the dark brown he was used to seeing on horses, Torbald had almost screamed in fear, the horse looking to him straight out of the stories that would scare him as a child.

“What’s its name?” Torbald cautiously asked.

“HER name, is Shadowmere.” She answered, obviously irritated by the inane question, just to fill the silence that had formed between them since leaving her home.

Torbald swallowed, unsure if he should keep asking, “And uh, why are her eyes red exactly, I’ve never seen that before.”

“I got her from the Dark Brotherhood, and they seem to like red, so maybe that’s why.” Torbald stared at her, mouth wide open, while her expression was unreadable from behind the mask she had put on soon after venturing onto the main road. No one would recognise her now, not after so many years, but old habits die hard, the mask having scared off many people in the past while protecting her identity at the same time. Some people wouldn’t believe she was the Dragonborn, until she donned the mask. Its previous owner had been a long dead priest of Alduin, a fitting piece for her to have.

“Dark Brotherhood?” Torbald managed to stammer out. “They’re a myth, aren’t they?”

“As much of a myth as I am. Just because people don’t see me, doesn’t mean I don’t exist.” Natalie was enjoying Torbald's surprise a little too much, trying hard to keep from bursting out laughing.

“You know, most people think you died years ago.”

“That was the idea. People think I’m dead, no one asks me to solve their petty little problems.”

“Everyone in the Dawnguard told me not to look for you, but I knew Ralof was right.”

“He’s one of the few people in Skyrim who would definitely know whether I was dead or not.”

Torbald stared at his saddle, wondering how much else they’d all gotten wrong about the Dragonborn. A thought popped into his mind, one he'd never thought to ask his grandfather, “You know, I don’t think Ralof has ever told me. How did you meet him? Doesn’t seem like the meeting would be particularly likely.”

Natalie shrugged, “We met when the Empire was trying to chop off our heads.”

“Wait, what? What did you do that would deserve that?”

“Ralof was part of the rebellion, and I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

* * *

   
**Sundas, 3:17pm, 16 th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**South-Western Skyrim**

Natalie wrenched the fourth of her arrows out of the deer’s carcass, snapping the head of it off within the beast. She groaned, mumbling to herself, “I’ve really gotta get better at this, pelt barely sells for anything with this many holes in it.” Hunting all morning and most of the afternoon with only one poor kill to show for it was not how she’d planned on spending her day.

Pulling out her knife, she began to cut the animal’s skin away, only to stop at the sound of a horse whinnying. She slowly turned to find an Imperial Guardsman standing a few metres behind her, having not heard him approach. She instantly straightened up, dropping her knife, bowing her head and avoiding his gaze.

“And what exactly do you think you’re doing elf?” the guard said in a deep gruff voice.

“Hunting Sir” she muttered into the long hair covering her face.

“Speak up cur!” he yelled, marching closer, towering over her small frame.

“Hunting, Sir!” she repeated, loud enough for him to hear, eyes still downcast.

“Hunting? On the Emperor’s lands? That just won’t do, now will it. Quite a serious offence, taking the Emperor’s food without being offered it. What should I do with you?” He reached up, playing with the ends of her hair.

“But but, there’s so many deer, surely he wouldn’t miss a couple? I’ve been hunting here for months.” Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes widening, the realisation of what she’d said dawning on her.

“Months?” The back of the guard’s plated gauntlet slammed into her cheek, throwing her to the ground. “Stealing one deer might have been a small sentence, but this…this will require something more serious.”

Natalie struggled to rise, the blow had opened a long cut on her face. She barely had time to look up, before the guard had unsheathed a small wooden blackjack, and brought it down on her head, knocking her unconscious.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 9:04am, 17 th of Last Seed, 4E 201**

**Road to Helgen**

The rhythmic rattling of cart wheels on the stony road slowly brought Natalie back from unconsciousness. Her head lolled from side to side as she struggled to open her eyes. One of them was swollen half shut from where the guardsman had struck her. It throbbed painfully with every stone the cart skipped over. Her wrists had been tied together with rough rope, scraping away layers of skin, leaving them raw, threatening to bleed at any moment.

Finally succeeding in opening her eyes, her vision slowly cleared, her three companions in shackles now vaguely registering somewhere in her mind. “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” Natalie turned to the speaker sitting across from her, a blond muscular Nord in a blue armoured tunic. “You got caught by the guardsman back there, right? Just minding your own business? Right near the Imperial ambush we walked into, same as that thief over there”.

The thief began to speak, a malnourished Nord wearing what could barely even be called rags, “Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you, I could’ve stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell.” He turned his attention to Natalie, appraising her in less than a second, “You there. You and me…we shouldn’t be here. It’s these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.”

“We’re all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief.” Natalie barely registered the two men speaking, as the true implications of what was happening dawned on her. She was in a cart, in binds, with a rebel, a thief, and a third man, who looked a noble from his clothes. They were being taken somewhere by Imperials. She was going to die. Her body rose and fell with silent sobs, tears leaving tracks down the dirt and dried blood on her face.

“Shut up back there!” The driver of the cart yelled back at them.

The two men speaking in the cart continued in more hushed tones, the ragged thief first, “And what’s wrong with him?” raising his chin towards the third man with them. A heavy piece of cloth was tied around his head, gagging him.

“Watch your tongue!” Natalie thought the blond Nord’s exclamation would make the driver yell at them again, but he seemed to pay no mind to them, “You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!”

Both the thief’s and Natalie’s heads snapped to Ulfric, mouths falling open, “Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You’re the leader of the rebellion. But if they captured you… Oh gods, where are they taking us?!”

“I don’t know where we’re going, but Sovngarde awaits.” The blond Nord had accepted his fate, not even a hint of fear coming through in his voice, the opposite of both the thief and Natalie. Her tears fell faster now, dripping onto her hands, as painful sobs wracked her body.

“No, this can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.” The thief was breathing harder now, struggling with the rope binding his wrists.

The blond Nord interrupted the thief’s attempts at escape, “Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?”

“Why do you care?”

“A Nord’s last thoughts should be of home.”

“Rorikstead. I’m… I’m from Rorikstead.” They finally fell silent as they approached a small village. Natalie remembered it as Helgen, having stopped here a few times to sell pelts and buy supplies. The people had been nice enough, but now it seemed they would gather to watch her be executed along with the rebels surrounding her.

Natalie was vaguely aware of the Imperial at the front of the column of carts talking to some High Elves, part of the dreaded Thalmor if their garb was anything to go by. The blond Nord seemed to know who the Imperial was and that they were in Helgen, commenting he used to know someone here.

Their cart ground to a stop, each passenger standing up and filing off, Natalie coming off last. The thief was pleading with the guards, “Wait, please, I’m not a rebel, you can’t do this!”

“Face your death with some courage thief”

“Please, tell them I’m not with you! This is a mistake!” Any pleas the thief had fell on deaf ears.

The Imperial Captain marched to the front of the small crowd of prisoners, stopping next to a soldier and exchanging brief hushed words with him. Natalie’s keen hearing picked up most of what they were saying, “This has to go as planned, all of them will die today, or its your head that goes on the block.” Her next words rang out and echoed throughout the village for all to hear, “Step forward when we call your name! One at a time!”

A scoff came from the blond Nord, “Empire loves their damn lists.”

The soldier began his task, “Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm.”

“It has been an honour, Jarl Ulfric.” The Nord did his best to stand at attention and nod respectfully to his leader.

“Ralof of Riverwood.” The Nord marched forward to the growing crowd of men and women waiting at the executioner’s block. “Lokir of Rorikstead.”

The thief Lokir stumbled forward, “No! I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!” He rushed forward, shouldering the soldier out of the way and began running to the gate.

The scream of the Captain called the guards to attention “HALT!”

“You’re not going to kill me!” Lokir kept running, paying no mind to the bows being notched around him.

“Archers!” The order was carried out immediately, the arrow penetrating his back, sending a small spurt of blood to stain the ground. His body collapsed to the ground in a heap, the Captain whirling back to the prisoners screaming out, “ANYONE ELSE FEEL LIKE RUNNING?”

Natalie flinched, trying to hide behind the man next to her. The soldier with his list spotted the movement, “Wait, you there. Step forward. Who are you?” She glanced at the guardsman who had brought her to this point.

“N..N..Natalie Sir.” She tried her best to keep her voice from trembling, her entire future depending on what this soldier did next.

“Hmm, not many wood elves would choose to come alone to Skyrim. Far cry from Valenwood,” He scanned this list again searching for her name to no avail. Her hopes perked up, “Captain, what should we do? I can’t find her on the list anywhere.”

The Captain was in no mood for mercy, putting her face within an inch of the soldier’s, “Forget the list,” her stare brokered no argument, “She goes to the block”.

The soldier audibly swallowed, “By your orders, Captain.” He turned back to the wood elf standing in front of him, all the hopes she may have had of being released completely dashed. “I’m sorry. We’ll make sure your remains are returned to Valenwood.”

Fresh tears sprang fourth from Natalie’s eyes, “Please, I didn’t do anything! You have to believe me!” The captain stormed up to her, roughly grabbing her arm and throwing her towards the headsman’s block. Natalie’s squeal of pain was cut short as the Captain grabbed her hair, dragging her the rest of the way.

“One more step out of line, and your death will not be quick and painless. I’ll personally ensure you spend the next six months in a cell, until you’re begging for death.” The Captain hissed into Natalie’s pointed ear “And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll grant you that sweet release”, before shoving her head into the ground.

Natalie struggled to her feet, taking her place among the others to be executed. The Captain had moved to the front of the crowd, standing directly next to the headsman. A priestess was with them, attempting to ease the passing of the headsman’s victims.

The Imperial’s leader, an old man in ornate armour, had strutted up to Ulfric to gloat at his victory over the rebellion, “Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn’t use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp the throne.” Ulfric’s only response through the heavy gag was a grunt, his eyes burning through the Imperial’s own. “You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos. And now the Empire is going to put you down and restore the peace.”

Natalie’s ears pricked up at the sound of a distant roar. It wasn’t a bear, it sounded much too large for that. The soldiers looked around, “What was that?”

The leader was unconcerned, “It’s nothing. Carry on.”

Ever the loyal solider, the Captain kept on with her orders, “Yes, General Tullius.” She nodded at the priestess, “Give them their last rites.”

“As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved—”

The priestess’ speech was cut short by a Stormcloak shoving his way to the block, “For the love of Talos, shut up and lets get this over with.”

“As you wish…” The priestess’ irritation was plain under her hood, but she would raise no argument if the man wanted his death to go unseen by the gods.

“Come on, I haven’t got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials.” He drops to his knees, before the Captain’s boot forces his head down onto the block. A deep laugh burst forth from the dead man’s throat, “Can you say the same?”

The headsman’s axe came down with such force that it embedded itself into the block, his foot needed to steady himself before he wrenched it out. Blood gushed from where the man’s head had been, spreading out on the ground near the block. A soldier dragged the body away, preparing the space for the next prisoner.

Ralof sighed from his place nearby, “As fearless in death as he was in life.”

“Next, the wood elf!” Natalie was dragged out of the crowd and flung to the Captain’s feet.

The roar rang out again. The soldier with the list looked around in confusion. “There it is again. Did you hear that?”

“I said, the wood ELF.” The last word was spat out. Natalie was pulled to her feet before a swift kick to the back of the knees forced her down, a boot on her back pushing her face down into the previous victim’s blood. Natalie coughed and spluttered, spraying the blood forward.

Natalie stared past the headsman to the mountains beyond, praying to any god or demon that would listen. _Save me. Please. I can’t die here._ Once more, the roar was heard. A black shadow glided from the mountains, startling all nearby.

“What in Oblivion is that!?”

“Sentries! What do you see?”

“It’s in the clouds!”

The creature alighted on top of the tower behind the headsman. Natalie craned her neck up to see rows of sharp teeth protruding from a beast as black as night. “DRAGON!” The cry went out. The screaming began.

The dragon bellowed in a language that resonated through Natalie’s bones. The headsman fell dead on his feet, the sheer force of the dragon’s voice killing him immediately. Rocks began raining down from the sky. One impact hurled Natalie away from the tower, landing hard on the ground with a yelp.

“Hey, wood elf!” She lifted her head off the ground, spying Ralof standing in the doorway of the tower. “Get up! Come on, the gods won’t give us another chance! This way!” She picked herself off the ground, hobbling towards the tower. Ralof slammed the door once she was inside. Several other Stormcloaks had made it inside, including Ulfric.

“Jarl Ulfric! What is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof was finally showing the fear appropriate for the situation.

“Legends don’t burn down villages. We need to move, now!” Ulfric’s voice was commanding, obviously used to his orders being followed to the letter.

Ralof scanned the people who’d gathered, motioning to Natalie and the others, “Up through the tower. Let’s go!” He turned to Natalie, “This way, friend! Move!”

Other Stormcloaks moved up, coming to a mound of rubble blocking their path. “We just need to move some of these rocks to clear the way!” They didn’t get a chance to start, as the dragon shattered its way through the side of the tower, sending the soldiers flying to their deaths at the bottom.

Ralof’s hand flew out, pushing Natalie into the wall, “Get back!” The dragon, once more, said something in a language Natalie felt like she should recognise, before fire streamed from its mouth, bathing the inside of the structure, leaving some of the stone glowing hot. Luckily for them, it flew off before doing any more damage.

The only ones left, Ralof and Natalie came to the hole the dragon had made, the way further up blocked by rubble. Leaning out of the opening, Ralof surveyed the surrounding area. He turned to Natalie, shouting over the noise of the battle outside, “See the inn on the other side? Jump through the roof and keep going!”

Natalie shied away from Ralof and the opening, “Jump? Out of here into a flaming building? Are you crazy? If the fall doesn’t kill me the flames will!” She attempted to turn away only to have Ralof grab her by the shoulders.

“Listen, Natalie was it?” She nodded. “This is the only way, you have to get out of here, get away from Helgen. This monster doesn’t look like its going to stop, so putting as much distance between us and it is the most important thing to do right now. I’ll find you and we’ll get out of here together okay? Its only a small drop, try to roll when you land.” She hesitated again, “Go! I’ll follow you when I can!”

Before she could protest, Ralof had disappeared down the stairs, through the smoke choking the air. Natalie tries in vain to get her wrists out the binds, only succeeding in causing the skin to split and blood to well to the surface. Glancing once more out of the tower, she took a step back and leapt, sailing through the air and through the inns flaming roof. She landed awkwardly on her feet, crashing to the floor with a groan.

Coughing through the chocked air, Natalie burst out of the inn, finding the soldier who had had the list with several villagers. “Haming, you need to get over here now!” A young boy was in the open, with the dragon swooping nearby. He came running at the sound of the soldier’s voice, hiding behind a small mound of rubble. “Thataboy. You’re doing great! Torolf! Gods…everyone get back!” The dragon had made another run, fire streaming out of its maw as it passed, narrowly missing the small group and Natalie, but consuming Torolf, ashes the only indication he’d even been there. The solider noticed Natalie, “Still alive, elf? Keep close if you want to stay that way. Gunnar, take care of the boy. I have to find General Tullius and join the defence”

“Gods guide you, Hadvar.” Gunnar moved away from the dragon’s path, pulling Haming with him.

“Right, follow me, I’ll make sure your safe.” No other alternative to get out of this alive presenting itself, Natalie followed the man she now knew as Hadvar. Making their way between buildings and an inner wall of the village, the duo carefully picked their way through, watching the skies for any sign of the dragon. “Stay close to the wall!” Before Natalie could even think to act, Hadvar shoved her against a wall, the dragon perched directly above them flooding a building with fire. They carefully edged under the dragon, before it took flight. “Okay, I think we’re good for now. Quickly, this way!”

Rounding a corner, they were confronted with the carnage that was the main gate into town. Any structure nearby had been reduced to ruins, flames still smouldering on most of them. Imperials were loosing arrows at the dragon any time it was close enough, to no effect.

“Die dragon!”

“How in Oblivion do we kill this thing?! Just…die!”

Hadvar and Natalie ran past the group of soldiers, towards the keep’s courtyard at the edge of the town. Rushing into the courtyard was Ralof, axe in hand, ready to defend himself from any Imperial who dared strike him. “Ralof! You damned traitor, out of my way!”

“We’re escaping Hadvar! You’re not stopping us this time.” Ralof’s gaze dared Hadvar to challenge him.

Instead, Hadvar shook his head, “Fine. I hope that dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!”

Ralof beckoned to Natalie, “Come on Natalie! Into the keep! This is our chance.” Natalie felt almost guilty, before following Ralof into the keep, leaving the Imperials behind.

 

* * *

 

The inside of the keep was damp, Natalie’s ears picking up dripping water from almost every direction. They made their way through the entrance, finding themselves in a large atrium. Ralof led the way, hurrying across the room and crouching down. A corpse of one of his fellows was lying against the far wall, blood marring the blue of his uniform.

Reaching up, he closed the eyes of his dead comrade, “We’ll meet again in Sovngarde, brother.” Rounding back to Natalie, he searched the room for a way out. “Looks like we’re the only ones who made it. Damn it. That thing was a fucking dragon. No doubt. Just like the children’s stories and the legends. The harbingers of the End Times.” He took a dagger from the table moving towards Natalie, she shied away, backing up to the wall. “Sorry, just wanted to get those bindings off you.” She relaxed, holding her arms out, Ralof cutting away the ropes easily.

Natalie rubbed her wrists gingerly, glad to be rid of the restraints. “There you go.” Ralof smiled at her. “Hopefully that’s the last time we’re in trouble like that. May as well take Gunjar’s gear…he won’t needing it anymore” He removed armour from the corpse, “Alright, get that on.” Natalie almost refused, the blood on the armour was fresh, before accepting it and dragging it on over her tattered hunting clothes.

Ralof began to remove the dead man’s boots, Natalie stopping him before he’d got the first one off, “Oh, no thanks, don’t really wear shoes, plus, doubt they’re going to fit me. This armour is a little too big as it is.”

Ralof was going to argue, before thinking better of it and handing her an axe, “Here, give this a few swings. Might as well take his dagger as well. I’m going to see if I can find some way out of here.” He strode to the gate on one side of the room, finding it locked. “Damnit. Locked. No way to open from our side”

They both froze at the sound of voices through the locked gate, “Come on soldier! Keep moving!” The Imperial Captain had found their hiding place.

“Shit, Imperials. Take cover!”  Ralof and Natalie took positions either side of the gate, out of sight of the approaching enemies. Natalie drew the dagger from her side holding it with both hands down by her waist, pressing herself as close to the wall as she could.

The gate scraped open, two Imperials walking through. Ralof is on the subordinate in an instant, axe catching him in the chest, bones crunching through his armour. A grunt is all he can make before he collapses, Ralof ripping his axe out. The Captain has made it to the centre of the room and drawn her sword. “I didn’t think I could hate you Stormcloak filth anymore. The war was bad enough, but now, helping elves?” She rounded on Natalie, “They don’t deserve it, barely people as it is.” She spat on the ground in Natalie’s direction.

With a war cry, Ralof charged, swinging his weapon with enough force to almost disarm the Captain. They exchanged a series of blows, metal ringing against metal. Natalie circled around them, moving behind the Imperial, looking for her moment to strike. Her hunting instincts had taken over, telling her to wait patiently. There. A break in the Captain’s guard. Natalie ran, jumped on the Imperial’s back, plunging her dagger into the gap between the helmet and breastplate, blood immediately welling from the wound. The Captain had just enough strength left to twist Natalie off her before making a feeble attempt to remove the blade.

The body collapsed, blood gushing from the deadly wound, pooling under it. Natalie picked herself up from where’d she’d been thrown to the floor, hands on her knees breathing slowly. “I’ve never killed anything but animals before” she said matter-of-factly.

“Trust me, not a feeling you get used to. Come on, maybe one them has the key to get out of here.” Ralof removed the dagger from the Captain’s neck, handing it back to Natalie. A brief search of the pouches on the corpse yielded his prize. “Here we are, a key. Let’s see if it opens that door.” The door clicked, allowing passage further down into the keep’s depths. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the dragon brings the whole tower down on top of our heads.”

Natalie crouched down next to the body of the dead Captain. She looked almost peaceful, the hate filled glare gone. Natalie removed the Captains metal armguards, fitting them over her forearms, a bit more protection from whatever they would face further in. Following Ralof, she descended, almost getting trapped beneath a collapsing ceiling in front.

Natalie’s ears pricked up, voices coming from a side room further on. She thrust an arm out stopping Ralof and signalling to him what she’d heard. They crept on, mindful of any movement that would cause noise to give them away. Natalie carefully poked her head around the doorframe into the room, spying two Imperial soldiers ransacking what looked to be a storeroom.

Ralof whispered to her, “We can take them by surprise, no need for a fight, you get the one on the left, I’ll take the right.” Natalie only nodded in response.

Taking Ralof’s suggestion, they quickly despatched the two of them, neither having time to even draw their weapons to defend against the Nord’s axe or the elf’s dagger. Natalie dumped the axe Ralof had given her, taking another dagger from the dead Imperials, the lighter weapon better suiting her small frame and aptitude for stealth. They were now sheathed, one on each thigh.

Searching for any supplies they could find, a scream stopped them both in their search. Exchanging a look, they moved on, finding themselves at the top of a staircase, stained with blood on nearly every step. Cages were visible near the bottom, as well as hanging from the roof. “Troll’s blood! It’s a torture room!” Sounds of battle echoed up the stairs. They took the Imperials by surprise from the rear, quickly ending the fight before more of the Stormcloaks could die.

Ralof’s short conversation with the others yielded no more information, Ulfric was missing, and none of them had a plan on how to get out aside from forward or trying their luck with the dragon.

Natalie examined one of the torture cages, a skeleton and a book lie inside. No matter what angle she stuck her arm in at, she could not reach the book or any of the gold scattered around. Ralof came up behind, holding out a lockpick, “Here, try this. Might need that gold later. Grab anything useful and let’s get going.”

“How do I…”  Ralof had wandered off before Natalie could ask how to even use a lockpick. She’d had no need for one before. Sighing, she carefully inserted it, jiggling it around, until she’d somehow done the right thing, and the lock made a satisfying click. Swinging the cage open, the gold was quickly piled into a small pouch and attached to Natalie’s belt.

The skeleton was wearing what appeared to be a mages robe. Already having garments to cover her chest, she removed the hood, fastening around her neck, leaving it down for the time being. She piled her long hair into it, before collecting the book. It was a spell tome, with a stylised picture of lightning and a magic symbol Natalie couldn’t decipher on its cover.

Undoing the small clasp on the side, Natalie began to read. It detailed how to produce and send small amounts of lightning streaming out of her fingertips. Holding the book in her left, she made the jerking movements the book described with the fingers on her right hand.

The tome clattered to the floor in Natalie’s surprise, as bright blue sparks erupted from her fingers and struck the roof. A yelp had come unbidden from her mouth, drawing the attention of the Stormcloaks. Ralof came over, “A mage huh? Could be useful if we find any more Imperials.” He gave a reassuring smile, but the sentiment on magic was not shared by his comrades, the trust Natalie had seen on their faces previously all but vanished.

Spurred on by Ralof’s encouragement, Natalie stared at a training dummy on the opposite side of the room. Focusing what she felt from her centre when she’d done it before, she made the same movements, the sparks flaring out of her fingers once more, this time brighter.  Adding her other hand with it, the two streams connected into true lightning, setting the dummy alight. “Oops…” She cut off the lightning, shaking her hands out, letting the power settle back down into her core. Stowing the book in a small pack she’d found, the Stormcloaks pressed on.

The keep’s dungeon gave way to a cave system. After despatching a group of Imperials, with Natalie using her new-found magical ability to great effect, they entered the caves. A small cave in cut off Natalie and Ralof from the others. “No going back now. The rest will have to find another way out. We better keep going. Hope there’s an exit this way.”

A group of giant frostbite spiders attacked and were summarily disposed of, Ralof commenting on his disdain for the creatures. After what seemed like hours, they saw the light of day around the corner of a cavern larger than any they had come across previously.

Ralof signalled for Natalie to stop, crouching down and speaking in hushed tones, “Hold up. There’s a bear just up there. See her? I’d rather not tangle with her. We could sneak by, get out before she wakes up. You said you were a hunter, right?”

Natalie grumbled, “Got arrested for it. Apparently wasn’t hunting where I was supposed to.”

“Well, you could try and catch it by surprise”, Ralof held out a bow with a small quiver, “I’ll follow your lead and watch your back.”

The bow was almost instantly taken, fixing the quiver over her back and drawing an arrow. Natalie’s mood brightened, grinning up at Ralof, “Lets hunt us some bear.”

She edged her way around the perimeter of the cavern, getting a view of the bears head. The bow was drawn back, aimed, she breathed in. And released.

The arrow struck, embedding itself deep in the bear’s neck. She rose to a standing position, only slightly fazed by the arrow now jutting out. She let out a deafening roar, turning its attention to Natalie. The second and third arrows joined the first in the bear, slowing her charge. Natalie rolled out of the way, sprinting towards Ralof. Turning, the fourth arrow struck true, downing the beast.

Natalie straightened up from her kneeling position, downcast expression on her face, “Always four arrows. Can never seem to get the first three where I want them.”

Ralof chuckled, “Got the beast down at least, even if it did take four. Pretty quick on your feet to outrun and fire the fourth.”

“Quick feet have gotten me out of trouble quite a few times. Except for from Imperial guardsmen it seems”

He pointed to the mouth of the cave, “At least we found the exit, should be easy from now.” Natalie slung the bow over her shoulder, following him out.

The bright sunlight made Natalie squint and shade her eyes. “Get down!” Ralof tackled Natalie behind a rock, a black shape flying overhead. The dragon flew on, not seeing them. He helped her back to her feet. “Looks like he’s gone for good this time. Imperials will be swarming around her soon enough, better clear out.” He looked around. “I know where we are, Riverwood is just up the road here. My sister Gerdur runs the mill, I’m sure she’ll help us.”

They made their way down to the river, following the road towards Riverwood.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 6:29pm, 9 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Road South-West of Riverwood**

Natalie finished her tale just as the sun began to fall behind the mountains. “And we’ve been... friends ever since. He's definitely known me the longest at least, your grandfather. Unfortunately, knows me better than almost anyone.” A scowl formed on her face. “One of the reasons I need to have a chat with him”

Torbald was having a hard time taking in all that Natalie had said. His grandfather had almost been beheaded but had been saved by a dragon’s arrival. If it wasn’t the Dragonborn telling the story, he would have accused the person of being completely insane. “So, you and my grandfather…not only escaped an Imperial headsman, but survived an encounter with ALDUIN, the literal end of the world as we know it. In fact, he saved you both.”

Natalie cocked her head at Torbald, “Pretty much the short version yes. And you do know who you’re talking to right? I killed Alduin. I survived, oh maybe, 12 meetings with him all up? Very talkative when he wanted to be.” Shadowmere, as though she’d understood Natalie, made a noise sounding very much like laughter.

The Nord stared at the reins in his hand. How was this person real? She talked about Alduin as if it had been nothing to kill him, to save the whole world from him. Torbald wouldn’t even have been born without the elf now riding next to him. He looked over at Natalie, the mask hiding any clue as to what she was thinking.

“Might have to stay the night in Riverwood. It’s getting pretty dark; don’t think we should start the journey to the fort tonight.”

“Scared of the dark, are you?” Natalie laughed, Torbald going red in the face. “Okay, hope the inn has a free bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the flashbacks going forward will be of original scenes, needed to get this one out of the way first.  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Old Friends

**Middas, 8:00pm, 9 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Riverwood**

 

Riverwood had changed little in the years since Alduin’s defeat. A few new buildings on the outskirts, but other that that, it was the same town Natalie remembered from her first visit. The small inn crowded with townsfolk, the delicious smell of charred meat emanating from the inviting door. The lumber mill next to the river, its wheel rotating with the current, even at night, the sound comforting in its uniformity.

The pair rode into the village quietly, stabling their horses outside the inn. The enchantments around Shadowmere’s eyes were back in place. Natalie was taking no chances at being held up here any longer than they needed to be, and an accusation of having a demon horse would take up far too much time. Her mask was now stowed in her bag and her braided hair flicked outside her cloak.

Torbald was surprised the guards on the gate had let them through this late at night. Vampires had yet to be sighted nearby, but he thought they’d at least ask some questions, or tell them to come back in the morning. He was still grateful they’d be staying inside tonight. Maybe Ralof could have a chat with the guards for him.

They made their way into the inn, packed with patrons, locals and travellers alike. Pushing through the crowd to the bar, almost shouting above the din, “Got any free rooms? Only need it for one night.” Natalie threw a few Septims onto the bar, grabbing the inn keep’s attention.

“Just the one, though it only fits one person,” he eyed Torbald, “not gonna do for the both of you. Plus, two people, costs extra.”

Natalie rolled her eyes, “It’ll be fine, which one?” She placed the rest of the coins onto the bar, before taking a table in the corner of the main room. Torbald had seen a childhood friend, now standing on nearly the opposite side of the room. Natalie sipped from a tankard, blending into the shadows. She listened closely for any fragments of conversation from around the room, hoping to hear anything about the vampire attacks, but mostly heard only village gossip.

One caught her attention. An off-duty guard and a mercenary from what she could make out. “The reward was ridiculous. Thousands to clear one teeny tiny little cave. Eashy gold I thought.” The mercenary’s voice slurred, several tankards empty on the table. “They just kept coming and coming and coming. Too fast. The dogs, like nothing you’ve ever seen. You need walls man. Big walls. And fire everywhere. Fire hurts them.” His grip on his mead slackened, spilling some on the floor.

“Big walls, right. Let’s get you home.” The guard slung the man’s arm over his shoulders, and led him to the door, almost carrying him into the night. Natalie stood up, weaving her way through the crowd and followed them outside.

“Hey!” She jogged after them, tapping the guard on the shoulder. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear. Where is this cave? So, I can steer clear of course.” She smiled at the mercenary, his eyes wandering over her face, dropping to her body, wanting to see what was underneath her heavy cloak.

“Bit south-west of Ivarstead from what he told me.” The guard answered for the man, shifting more of his shoulder under him as the mercenary leant towards Natalie. The stench of mead was thick on his breath. Natalie made no move to put distance between them.

Her curiosity piqued, “What did you see exactly?”

The smile disappeared from the mercenary’s face, replaced by a blank look, fear shining through his eyes, “People, glassed over eyes. Attacking, didn’t even try to block. And the things with the red eyes. Glowing in the dark. Too fast to see. Killed everyone. But me. I ran. Faster than I’ve ever run. Almost got me they did.”

She puzzled over the man’s story, before looking back up at the men, “Thank you for the information.”

“Anything for a pretty girl.” The fear seemingly forgotten, the mercenary grinned and winked, swaying even more on his feet, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Natalie smiled back, turning and heading back to the noise of the inn. The description of thralls and vampires checked out with the ones she’d come across before, but the dogs he’d mentioned. What were they? Similar to Shadowmere? Both had red eyes, far stronger and faster than another of their type. A gift from a Daedric Lord as well?

Lost in her thoughts, Natalie didn’t notice Torbald sit across from her at the table. “You’ve barely touched your drink.” She stared down at the nearly full tankard.

“You weren’t kidding about these vampire attacks. Couple of people talking about it in here.”

Torbald raised an eyebrow, “You thought I was joking? Why would I go out looking for you if it wasn’t serious?”

She moved her gaze to Torbald’s, a grave expression etched into her face, “Plenty of reasons. You were trying to lure me into unfamiliar terrain to take me down easier, maybe hired by people to do just that. Or even just trying to bring me back into the world for no other reason than you think I should be. You don’t live as long as I have, doing what I’ve done and get away with trusting people. Especially not when you’ve just met them.”

He broke their eye contact, the table suddenly far more interesting. Choosing his next words carefully, “Then why would you agree to help, if trust is so hard?”

“I haven’t. Not yet anyway. Entirely depends on what your grandfather says tomorrow. Whether I think its grave enough to come back from the dead for.” Natalie’s eyes returned to her tankard, before draining it in one go. She stood and left, going straight to their room for the night.

Torbald was confused to say the least. She’d come all this way to talk to someone who had almost nothing to do with the problem or the solution to it, just to decide whether she’d help exclusively on his word? All Ralof had done was tell him where to find her. Ralof wouldn’t be doing the fighting, he was well past the age for that. Yet his word could possibly change the outcome of the Dawnguard’s crusade completely.

Torbald hoped his grandfather would be convincing enough for his sake.

 

* * *

 

**Turdas, 6:08am, 10 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Riverwood**

 

Natalie woke just before the sun rose. The sky outside the small room’s window was tinted orange, signalling the new day. Blinking rapidly, she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Torbald was asleep in a chair, snoring loudly. She collected her weapons, carefully strapping them into the desired positions, kicking Torbald awake.

“Time to go kid. Get up.”

Torbald looked out the window, puzzled at being woken so early. Attempting but failing to stifle a yawn, he protested “Its barely morning, suns not even up, can’t we wait a bit to get going?”

“If Ralof’s anything like the last time I saw him, he’s an early riser, and I’d rather get this conversation out of the way as soon as possible. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah, alright alright. Just getting my stuff.”

“I’ll wait outside then.” Natalie left the room, making no noise despite the amount of weaponry she was carrying.

Torbald found her outside, sitting atop the bannister of the inn’s porch, back rested against a support. She alighted onto the floor, once again silently. She walked off before he could say anything, crossing the village’s main road and making for the small bridge next to the mill, crossing the river.

Ralof had built a small house on the edge of the village, separated by the river from the rest. Torbald struggled to keep up with the elf’s quick pace as she strode to his front door, knocking loudly. The floor boards creaked from within as the occupant came to the door.

Ralof opened the door and almost instantly a broad smile spread across his aged features. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite grandson, and a back-from-the-dead friend.” Torbald stepped forward and hugged the old man, reciprocated with more force than an old man should have. “You’re looking good Natalie, great to see you.”

“And you’re looking old.” Natalie’s grin spanned pointed ear to pointed ear.

“We can’t all be immortal and eternally young.” Ralof’s age was evident, his hair now completely white. He’d grown a close-cropped beard over the years, leaving his hair the same length she’d always seen him with.

Natalie’s smile faded slightly looking away from her old friend. “Yes, well, I was hoping we could catch up.” She glanced at Torbald, whose gaze was flitting between the two of them, “Privately if possible.”

“Of course. Torbald, from the look in your eyes I’d say Natalie got you up before you could breakfast. There’s some bread and meat in the larder, help yourself.”

Torbald made his way inside, Ralof reaching out and shutting the door behind him. Natalie had walked some distance away, staring out over the river. Ralof made to join her, but she continued walking away, further from the village. He strode after her, catching her next to one of his favourite fishing spots, near a large tree.

“Its been a long time Natalie. Too long really. I assume Torbald told you what’s been happening. Nasty. Too many stories of families losing loved ones to these monsters. I’d go out and help, but at my age…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish before Natalie had grabbed either side of his tunic, whirled him around and slammed him into the tree knocking the wind out of him. Birds further up the tree protested at the sudden vibration through their home, squawking as they took flight.

Natalie’s eyes burned with fury, her grip tightening further on her friend, “Are. You. Out. Of. Your. MIND?!” The last word was screamed, her voice shaking with rage. “What was the one thing, just ONE, that I asked you to never tell anyone?” Natalie released her grip, turning and staring out over the river.

“Where you were.”

“Exactly. Where I was. I told you I wanted to disappear. I told you I wanted nothing more to do with all the fucked-up shit that goes on. But oh no… you just have to bring me back in to this fucking place’s mess. I trusted you, against my better instincts, with where I was, so maybe I could have one friend who hasn’t betrayed me at some point. Just that little bit of happiness.”

“Nat, it’s been over 40 years. Don’t you think it’s time you...?”

She spun back to face him, “Time I what Ralof? Time, I came back and helped all the insignificant little bastards again? Time, I sacrifice again and again for them!?” She threw her hands up in the air, gripping the back of her head.

Ralof was lost for words at his friend’s anger. He had expected something like this, but not this much. This wrath extended deeper than he thought. Something had happened to her before she had sequestered herself away from Skyrim.

“Natalie,” he paused, searching for words, “what happened? You used to help because you wanted to. What changed?”

Her hands dropped, burning her friend through with her forest green eyes, “What changed? You want to know what happened the last time I tried to help?” He nodded cautiously, unsure where she was going with this. “This happened.”

Ralof audibly gasped as Natalie threw off her cloak and took off part of the armour covering her midriff. A jagged scar marred her bronze skin, running from the bottom of her ribs on her left all the way down to her hip. She turned, the exit wound almost a mirror of the entrance.

She covered the scar back up with her armour, breathing heavily, attempting to calm her rage. “The last time I tried to help someone, one of your people ran me through with a fucking claymore. Twisted it for all he was worth. One of the people I saved. One of the people I sacrificed my entire life for. I could have had a normal life. Maybe a few kids. But no. I have to be the fucking Dragonborn. They won’t LET me be normal. So, don’t tell me ‘But it’s been 40 years.’ I really don’t fucking care.”

“I’m sorry Nat. I didn’t know.” Ralof searched for the words that might calm his friend and at the same time convince her to help, “I know you don’t want to help. I know I broke my promise to you. I’ll never be able to make that up to you. You deserve a normal life more than anyone I’ve ever met. You’ve done more for Skyrim than most would or have in a thousand lifetimes. I wouldn’t have told Torbald you were even alive if I thought they could do it without you.” Natalie hung her head, she knew he was right. He continued, “From the stories I’m hearing, these attacks aren’t just random pockets of the monsters. They’re organised. Searching for something. Its sounding like almost as much of a threat as Alduin was. That’s why I told Torbald where to find you. You might not want to help, but you need to help. If they find what they’re looking for, who knows what will happen.”

Natalie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her right hand, left clenched at her side. “I have to help then. Always the way.” Natalie, now resigned to her fate, twisted back to face Ralof, a faint grin threatening to spill onto her face, “If this is anything less than a complete cataclysm, I’m going back home, and shooting anyone who comes near.”

“That’s fair I suppose.” Ralof smirked, breaking her composure, the corners of her mouth turning up just enough for Ralof to consider it a victory.

They returned to Ralof’s home, finding Torbald anxiously tapping his foot awaiting their return. He immediately jumped up at the sound of the door opening, expectantly looking at the both of them.

“Looks like I’m helping the Dawnguard.”

“Oh, thank the divines.” Torbald’s relief was plain, now plastered across his face. “Should only take us a couple of days to get to the fort. Then you can meet Isran”

Natalie puzzled over the name, she was sure she’d heard it before somewhere, but no where came to mind. “Who is Isran?”

“Our leader. Started the Dawnguard all by himself. Did a lot of work on the fort. Not the easiest person to get along with, but a good commander, for the most part.” Torbald scratched the back of his head, a slight frown on his face, “He was actually one of the ones that said there was no chance you were alive. Ordered me to come back with you, or not come back at all. I was chasing a fantasy apparently. It’ll be good to prove him wrong.”

Torbald’s explanation gave Natalie no insight into where she might have heard the name before. She decided to drop it, the answer would become clear to her in time, maybe once she met the man.

“Meet me back at the inn. We’re going to need supplies.” Natalie strode off, back towards the village’s centre.

“Thank you, grandfather. I don’t know what you said to her, but it worked. We might actually have a chance now.” Torbald’s smirk faltered at the disheartened look on Ralof’s face.

“I’m not so sure it did work son. I’ve never seen Natalie this angry in all the years I’ve known her.” Ralof’s eyes followed her retreating form, “She’ll help you, for now. Just be prepared for her not to be the hero in the stories you’ve heard or to the ones I’ve told you. She’s just not that person anymore.” Ralof pulled Torbald into an embrace. “Keep her safe for me. Talos go with you.”

“And with you.” Torbald squeezed Ralof back, returning to the inn. How wasn’t she the same person? Surely, she can’t have changed that much in the years since Alduin. Natalie seemed friendly enough, it didn’t take that much to get her to help, did it? There was anger sure, but why was Ralof so worried about it?

He prepared his mare, watching as she made her way back up the village’s street towards him. Her hood was pulled completely over her face, obscuring it from view. Torbald looked at her with a new perspective. He would figure out why Ralof was paranoid about her. No word was spoken as they prepared their mounts and followed the road south away from the village, towards their destination.

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 8:28am, 13 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Dayspring Canyon Entrance**

 

They rode for three days, only stopping to sleep and for all too brief food breaks. Torbald was convinced his mare was going to keel over from exhaustion, but she kept going. He was astounded at her resilience. Shadowmere on the other hand, showed no sign of weariness whatsoever. She looked as though another three days of riding would be no trouble, her stamina not sapped in the slightest.

The riders were in similar condition to their mounts. Torbald was tired beyond belief, ready to slip out of the saddle and crash to the floor to sleep, no matter what he landed on. Natalie looked like she’d just mounted up, perfectly poised, her hood down, relaxed.

Natalie alighted from Shadowmere, giving her a sharp smack on the rear, sending her galloping out of the canyon. Rolling her shoulders out, she walked off down the road, leaving a quizzical Torbald in her wake. “What did you do that for? Don’t you need her?”

“She’ll come back when she’s called. Besides, I prefer travelling by foot. Only rode her so we could keep pace with each other.” She pulled her hood up, pulling her braided hair to one side over her shoulder, hanging loosely to nearly her waist.

Torbald dismounted, gathering the reins into one hand and leading his horse along the path, trying to keep up with Natalie’s brisk pace. The path towards the fort was narrow and winding. A waterfall tumbling over the side of a cliff came into view, a small lake at the bottom. A young Nord stood by the edge of the lake, not noticing the pair until they were standing next to him.

The Nord jumped, “Oh, hello. Here to join the Dawnguard too?”

Natalie chuckled, “Something like that.”

The Nord caught sight of Torbald's armour, mouth falling open, “Wait, you're already in? Could you put a good word in with Isran for me? I doubt he'll take me otherwise.”

It was Torbald's turn to laugh, “Doubt it would help much, he's a prickly old bastard, and I’m not exactly his favourite person right now.”

“Oh. Well. Do you mind if I walk up to the fort with you? Been standing here for an hour trying to work up the guts. Easier with a group. I’m Agmaer by the way.” Agmaer held out his hand, Torbald shaking firmly.

“Torbald. And this is...”

Natalie cut him off, “Ysolda” She smiled as Agmaer shook her hand enthusiastically.

The trio began their trip towards the fort, Natalie and Torbald slowing their pace till Agmaer was out of earshot. “Ysolda? What’s with the fake name? Everyone’s going to know soon enough that you're here.”

“The fewer people who know I’m helping the better. Unless I tell them, do not tell anyone who I am. I’ve made a lot of enemies over the years. Best they don’t know I'm alive, let alone that there’s a target for them to strike at.” Natalie caught up to Agmaer, leaving Torbald and his mare behind.

“Hope they let me join up. Can’t back out now. Told my parents I’d see this through.” Agmaer glanced at Natalie, eyes following each of the myriad weapons she had, before looking at his own slightly rusted sword and battered shield. “I’m sure they’ll let you in no problem Ysolda. Won’t even need to give you any gear. Me though...I’ll need to replace everything.” A half-hearted grin appeared on Agmaer's face.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word for you. And I’m sure Torbald back there will help too.” Natalie’s smile brightened Agmaer's mood, his own now beaming.

The trio made their way down the path together. The fort came into view soon after, sun shining down on the parapets. Natalie noted the cracks in the wall, plants growing through them. Most of the fort was run down, only the entrance and some of the main structure cleared and repaired. At least the front gate looked sturdy.

Agmaer charged ahead, past training Dawnguard members, shouting back, “I’ll see you inside!”

“He’s a lot more enthusiastic now. Hopefully he doesn’t get himself killed.” Natalie stalked away from Torbald, observing the training men. She saw flaws in each of the recruits, flaws that would easily get them killed against the far stronger and faster opponents they would face. This wasn’t an army as Torbald had made it out to be. This was a bunch of farmhands trying to be heroes. She had expected this. There were more who had joined up than she thought there would be, but the quality of each one was too low to stand a chance. They really did need her. Torbald and Ralof were right. This group would fail without her intervention.

Sighing, she re-joined Torbald, speaking to an Orc dressed in shining Dawnguard armour. Now this is what Natalie had been looking for. One among them who actually looked like he could fight. He was carrying a strange device she’d never seen before. It looked like a bow, but had an odd handle attached to it.

“This the one you told me about?” The Orc appraised Natalie with a critical eye, the gruffness of his voice telling of years spent fighting. “Weapons are damn impressive, I’ll give her that. Hopefully she lives up to your stories.”

“Well, never had any complaints from my enemies, that’s for sure.” Natalie smirked holding out her hand, “Ysolda.”

“Durak. Huh, could’ve sworn the Dragonborn’s name was Natalie.” Natalie’s eyes flitted to Torbald’s, anger flaring and subsiding as quickly as it came. Torbald swallowed, a deafening sound in Natalie’s ears.

“Yes, well, apparently I can’t keep secrets from anyone. Do me a favour, don’t go spreading it around, trying to keep a low profile if at all possible. It’ll make my help more valuable.” Durak shook her hand firmly, the strange weapon dropping to his side, Natalie’s eyes following it down.

“Never seen a crossbow? Not surprised. Kind of a Dawnguard specialty. Nothing better for putting down vampires.” Proving his point, Durak quickly lifted the weapon, nearly ripping the head off a training dummy as he fired the bolt.

“Not bad at all.” Natalie unslung her own bow, drawing an arrow. “Have to try it sometime.” She drew back, barely aiming for a second before releasing, splitting Durak’s bolt into four shards. “Have to see if I like it. Gotten used to this one.”

“Son of a bitch. The kid wasn’t exaggerating. You are good. Welcome to the Dawnguard.”

“Thought Isran had the final say on that.” Natalie joked.

“The old man does, sure, but I’m guessing you’ll convince him.” Durak holstered his crossbow, retrieving Natalie’s arrow, admiring the craftmanship. “Never seen anything like this. Damn sturdy.” He bent it experimentally, the arrow flexing straight back to its proper shape.

“Make them myself. Dragonbone. Kill as many dragons as I have, and you find a use for just about everything. Flies truer than anything I’ve ever used. Yet to break one too, goes through plate armour like you wouldn’t believe.”

They began walking towards the fort’s gate, Natalie making note of the few guardsmen patrolling the walls. “I meant to ask you Torbald, what’s Isran’s story? I think I know the name, but I can’t place where.”

Torbald answered, “I don’t really know that much. Used to be a part of the Vigilants of Stendarr, but they weren’t doing enough for his taste. At least, that’s what the stories are.”

“He also tried to start the Silver Hand back up again in his youth. Failed of course, not enough people for that. Hates werewolves almost as much as vampires.” Durak supplied. “Joined the Vigilants pretty soon after that.” Natalie bristled, the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Luckily, her hood hid her face from sight, no one seeing her loss of composure.

“Must’ve been thinking of someone else then.” Natalie thought over this new information. Isran wouldn’t know her face, but would he know how the Silver Hand had fallen all those years ago? He can’t have been more than a small child or a teenager when it happened. No, he wouldn’t know her. And if he did, she’d have to hope that this threat was bigger than the one he thought she would pose. Otherwise, a lot of people were going to die today.

 

* * *

 

The inside of the fortress had been painstakingly restored, far better than the crumbling outer walls. Natalie had to admit, the Dawnguard might not be full of great fighters, but at least they had a base that just might repel an attack by vampires.

They found Isran talking with another Nord, in the midst of a heated argument. “Why are you here, Tolan? The Vigilants and I were finished long ago.” Isran was obviously losing patience with this man, his words coming out of clenched teeth.

“You know why I’m here, the Vigilants are under attack everywhere! The vampires are much more dangerous than we believed.”

The Redguard marched closer to the Nord, almost pressing their noses together, “And now you want to come running to the safety with the Dawnguard, is that it? I remember Keeper Carcette telling me repeatedly that this fortress is a crumbling ruin, not worth the expense and manpower to repair. And now that you’ve stirred up the vampires against you, you come begging for my protection?”

Tolan’s face dropped in the face of Isran’s words, his voice almost cracking, “Isran… Carcette is dead. The Hall of Vigilants… everyone… they’re all dead. You were right, we were wrong. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Tolan had knocked the steam out of Isran with this confession, his next words even Natalie struggled to hear, “Yes, well… I never wanted any of this to happen. I tried to warm all of you… this threat is greater than you know… I am sorry, you know.” Isran placed his hand on the Nord’s shoulder, a gesture which did nothing to placate the Nord.

Isran finally took notice of Torbald and Natalie, eyes narrowing at Torbald. “I thought I told you not to return whelp. Get out of my sight.”

“You told me not to return without the Dragonborn. I have not done so. Here she is.” Natalie felt as though she should flourish with a Thu’um for show, but decided against it, instead inclining her head in greeting.

Natalie saw no recognition in Isran’s eyes when he looked at her. He must’ve not known her. He’d only heard stories then. “I told you boy, the Dragonborn is dead. You’ve brought and been lied to by some random elf. Get out of my sight the both of you.”

“Dead? Am I? That’s interesting news, nobody informed me.” Natalie experimentally pressed her hands on her chest, “Hearts beating, that’s a good sign.” She sniffed the air, “No rotting flesh smell, even better news.” She flipped her hood down, breathing deeply. The runes down her right arm faintly glowed gold, power building.

“ _FUS_ ” The Thu’um impacted Isran directly in the centre of his chest, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process. “Shouting still works. If that doesn’t convince you I’m not dead, you better have a good way to deal with undead.”

The room fell silent, everyone’s eyes locked on Natalie. Isran was stunned as he regained his footing, “Looks like you can stay Torbald, you’ve delivered.”

Natalie clapped her hands together, striding closer to Isran and Tolan, “Excellent. Now, how can I help this fine group you’ve got here. Didn’t come all this way to sit around a musty old fort.” Natalie’s enthusiasm was still met with stunned silence by most in the room.

Isran was far more focused than the rest of his colleagues, answering Natalie quickly, “I need someone out in the field, taking the fight to these damn monsters, while the rest of us get this fort into shape. Tolan was telling me about a cave the Vigilants had been poking around in. A lot of vampire activity in the area.”

Tolan snapped out of his stupor, blinking several times from staring at Natalie so wide eyed, “Dimhollow Crypt. Brother Adalvald was sure it held some long-lost vampire artifact of some kind. We didn’t listen to him anymore than we did Isran. He was at the hall when it was attacked, along will all the notes he had on the place…”

“Go and see what the vampires are looking for in the crypt. With any luck, they’ll still be there. See if you can get some answers from them before killing the bloodsuckers. You can re-supply here if you need to, plenty of weapons and armour. Though, looking at you, doubt we’ve got anything as fine as that.”

“I’ll meet you at the crypt then. It’s the least I can do for my fallen brothers.” Tolan’s words earned an amused expression from Isran.

“You? The Vigilants aren’t trained for this mission. You’ll just get yourself killed. End up like the rest of them.”

Tolan turned to Isran, “You may have a dim view of the Vigilants, Isran, but we can still fight. We have to.” He pivoted back to Natalie, “I’m going to Dimhollow Crypt. Perhaps I can be of some small assistance to you.” He strode back to the fort’s entrance, disappearing from sight.

“Always a stubborn one.” Isran shook his head, walking to the edge of the room and picking up a spare crossbow, “Here, you should take a crossbow. Good for hunting those fiends before they get too close.”

“I think I’ll be fine without it. Durak already offered me one, think I’m better with my bow. Few people, or monsters for that matter, have seen me firing this and lived to tell about it.”

“Ha! I like that confidence. Its still here if you change your mind before you leave.” Isran gave a slight bow, ordering his men back to their duties and to pick their jaws up off the floor.

Torbald was beside himself with awe, “Isran was nice to someone?! You really are special. And that shout! I don’t think I’ve seen him look more stunned.” He tried to rein in his laughter, only partially succeeding. “Finding you was worth is just to see his face.”

Natalie chuckled along with him, leading towards the entrance. “Know anything about this crypt they want us to go to? Like, where it is for example. That’d be good to know.”

“Its near Dawnstar from what I’ve heard. Pretty close to the Hall of the Vigilants. Ruins of the Vigilants now I guess.”

“Dawnstar? Ugh, that’s at the other end of Skyrim. Looks like I’m going to need Shadowmere back. You might want to look into getting a better horse. Doubt that bag of skin and bones will make the whole trip, and I’d rather not ride double saddle. Not to mention one of us would be riding bareback on her, and its not going to be me.”

Torbald grimaced at the thought, “Yeah, okay. Maybe Isran will give me a better one. Pretty hard to convince him for the first one, but with you here, maybe he will.”

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 10:30am, 21 st of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Hall of Vigilants Ruins**

 

Torbald had thought their previous pace to Fort Dawnguard from Riverwood had been tiring. He was wrong. He and Natalie barely stopped on their way north, sleeping and eating in the saddle. He’d nearly fallen off several times, and was amazed his horse had even made it. True to Torbald’s thoughts, he’d been loaned the best horse the Dawnguard had. But even it was about to collapse from exhaustion.

Once again, Natalie and Shadowmere were no worse for wear. Torbald thought it was probably magic keeping Natalie up, and was now sure Shadowmere was a demon, its unnatural stamina and appearance grating even more on his mind. If anything, they both looked more alert than when they had begun travelling. The venture had reinvigorated them both it seemed.

The Hall had been hit had. Most of the structure had collapsed, evidence of a great blaze everywhere. They picked through the ruin, hoping for anything they could find on Dimhollow. There was of course nothing, but Natalie insisted on checking, “You’d be surprised what you find in places others would overlook.” She’d said.

Natalie exited the ruin, finding Torbald laying in the snow half asleep. The pace had been hard on him, but they had to get here as quick as they could. Hopefully they’d beat Tolan there, or at least he shouldn’t have gotten to the crypt too long before them. Natalie gently nudged Torbald with her foot, startling him awake. “Come on, leave the horses here, we’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”

Torbald was incredulous, “Here? What if someone comes by and takes them? They’ve got all our supplies too.”

“If someone can take Shadowmere, they’d better be prepared to fight for their lives. She’s charged at dragons before I’ve even gotten near them. She won’t let either of them be taken, trust me.” She led Shadowmere to the front of the Hall, tying the reins around the ruins of the front landing.

Feeding the mare an apple, Natalie walked in the direction of the crypt, Torbald following close on her heels. “Assuming there’s vampires inside this place, follow my lead, don’t run ahead, and don’t get split up. Clear?”

“Yeah. I can fight you know. Maybe not as well as you, but Ralof taught me a lot.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow at him, “Did he teach you how to fight monsters who are stronger and faster than you could ever hope to be?”

“Uhhh… well no.”

“Then do as I say, and you’ll live through this.” Natalie surged ahead, leaving Torbald struggling to keep up in her wake. She was somehow walking on top of the snow, while Torbald was calf-deep pushing his way through. He noticed the runes along her arm were emitting a barely recognisable white-blue light.

They eventually made it to the crypt, Torbald panting at the exhaustion of trudging through the snow. Natalie peered into the cave, where it quickly turned a corner, preventing any scouting from the outside. Natalie removed the small pack from her shoulders, taking her cloak off with it. She wrapped the pack with the long fabric, stowing it behind a rock at the entrance.

“Why are you,” long breaths came between almost every word before Torbald continued, “leaving your pack here?”

“Trust me, they get pretty cumbersome to carry in a cave, especially if you happen to be trying to sneak around. Better leave it out here, hidden and come back for it later. And if you die in there, well, some wolf might get a nice meal out of whatever food you’ve got.” Natalie’s grin unnerved Torbald, but he couldn’t deny the logic behind her advice. He removed his own pack and cloak, placing them with Natalie’s.

“Catch your breath and we’ll go in. Draw your sword too, be ready for anything.” Natalie’s bow was already in her hand, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. With her cloak gone, Torbald got a good look at the shortsword strapped to her side. There was no scabbard, just a hard loop of leather holding it to her side. The black metal of it shone in sharp contrast to the white of the snow. A faint aura of sparks emanated from its length, never quite leaving the blade’s surface. Torbald wished he had a sword like that, his own only made of basic steel, with not a hair of enchantment.

Natalie drew her hood up, donning her mask. A few circular movements with her gauntleted hand, and blue light shone from behind the mask. A ward appeared around her whole body briefly, before vanishing from view. She threw the bow between hands, her gauntlet settled into a practiced grip around its centre.

“Ready?” The word echoed through Torbald’s mind. It didn’t sound like it had come from Natalie, but from everywhere and nowhere all at once. She was staring at him expectantly.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay, try to be as quiet as possible, if there’s anything down there, hopefully we can get the jump on them before they sense us. I’ll try to get as many with my bow, but be ready for any that get too close.”

They entered the crypt, eyes alert for any movement.

 

* * *

 

The crypt was like the myriad of others Natalie had been in and plundered over the years. Dark, dank, every shadow waiting to leap out and attack. Torbald was doing surprisingly well keeping quiet, even wearing the full plate armour as he was. Natalie’s sharp hearing still picked up some sounds, but for most, he would have been silent.

A narrow tunnel from the entrance opened into a cavern, where they kept to the walls and the shadows they provided. A river ran through it, masking any sound they may have made. Several waterfalls dotted the perimeter, Natalie would’ve liked to admire them, but her attention was on two figures in the centre of the area, a conversation between them easily overheard.

“I wish Lokil would hurry it up. I have half a mind to return to the castle and tell Harkon what a fool he’s entrusted this mission to.”

“And I have half a mind to tell Lokil of your disloyalty.”

They were vampires, and this made them targets.  She held up her hand, telling Torbald to wait.

She crept around for a better vantage point, coming across a body, badly mangled. Bite marks covered the body, the flesh ragged around the limbs, one leg missing. Blood stained the ground and a trail of mutilated organs led to a dog, currently gnawing on what Natalie guessed was a femur. Its eyes glowed red in the darkness, its flesh as black as night, almost looking as though it was rotting. The only identifying mark on the ravaged corpse was an amulet of Stendarr. Natalie cursed the vampires under her breath, she’d hoped they’d be able to save Tolan, but it was not meant to be.

She made her way back to Torbald, nodding and drawing an arrow. Standing straight, she aimed for the further vampire.

_Air enters the lungs. Eye down the shaft. Release._

The arrow pierced the vampire’s eye, a small spurt of blood and a squeal of bone as the body fell back. The other turned, murder in his eyes, spells already priming in his hand.

_Notch. Draw. Release._

The second arrow found its mark, striking the remaining vampire in the shoulder, forcing him to stumble back, his magic fizzling out.

_Start running, bow stowed, sword drawn. Next target: the dog. Avoid the teeth. Wait for its jump. Now._

Natalie sidestepped the leaping dog, her sword carving a path of ruin down its side, sparks electrocuting the hound as the blade sliced. The vampire had ripped the arrow out of his shoulder, but it was too late.

_Keep moving. Watch the hands. Under the arm. Drive through the chest._

Natalie’s sword plunged straight into his heart, taking him off his feet and slamming him to the floor. The force of the blow drove the blade slightly into the ground, Natalie using her foot to wrench it free of the dirt’s clutches. She wiped the blood off on the vampire’s clothes, sheathing her sword and retrieving her arrows.

Her bow returned to her hand, Torbald finishing off the whimpering hound with a precise stab to its skull. “You don’t really need me here at all, that was amazing.”

“Practice makes perfect. And I’ve had far too much practice. I’m sure there will be more of them further in, you’ll get your fill of vampires, don’t worry.” She returned to the remains of Talon, doing her best to cross his mangled arms over his chest. “May the divines watch over you friend. And may Sovngarde greet you with open arms.” Natalie intoned the prayer over the body, kneeling next to it. Rising, she spied a locked gate, presumably the way forward. “Now, we just need to get through there. There’s has got to be a way to open it.”

“What about Talon, we can’t just leave his body here!” Torbald protested.

“You think I want to leave him here? There’s nothing we can do, we have to press forward for his sake. See this through.”

“You’re right. I know. Doesn’t make it feel any better.”

“People die kid. In this life, you’re going to have to get used to it.” A small structure built out of the wall of the cavern caught Natalie’s eye. Her experience with Nord ruins told her there would always be a way through crypts and dungeons if you were careful enough when looking around.

Sure enough, a chain, when pulled, opened the locked gate, and provided the way forward. Torbald’s curiosity got the better if him, “How’d you know that would be there?”

“You Nords have a habit of leaving traps and locked areas in your tombs. But you also provide a way around them. For whatever stupid reason, you leave the clues in the open. I’ve been into enough crypts in Skyrim to get around easily.” Natalie turned back to Torbald, “Those dogs… where do they come from? I’ve come up against vampires before and I’ve never seen them. They look almost, well, dead.”

Torbald went pale. “We’ve been calling them Death Hounds. They started showing up with the groups of vampires. No one in the Dawnguard knows where they come from either. Luckily, they die just like any dog. Faster and stronger than the average dog though.”

Natalie inspected the beast’s corpse. As she’d seen, the flesh was starting to rot away, even when the thing had been alive. The remaining fur on its body was as black as night, same as the underlying skin. These things weren’t natural. Something had been done to them. She couldn’t feel any specific Daedric influence, but she couldn’t rule that out.

Then it clicked. They’d contracted vampirism. She shuddered at the thought of other vampiric creatures they may have created. A vampire spider was not what she needed right now.

“Let’s move.”

They proceeded through the newly-opened gate, careful to watch the bountiful shadows everywhere. They found themselves in a small graveyard, most of the gravestones had been worn away long before. A single vampire stood near the centre.

Natalie decided to let Torbald try his hand at hunting this prey. “Don’t let him know you’re there until it’s too late for him. If you can’t, make sure you strike first.” Natalie’s voice still sounded as though it wasn’t coming from her at all, but from within his own mind. He’d have to ask how she did that.

Torbald was halfway to the creature before Natalie knew something was wrong. Several graves began to shift, skeletal hands rising from the ground. It was too late to warn Torbald, better to take them out before they got to him. She shouldered her bow, forming a ball of lightning in her right hand, a spear of ice in the left.

_Aim for the centre, disrupt the enchantment. Aim and… fire._

The lightning caught the first skeleton before it could fully rise out of the grave. The bones of its body scattered, the ethereal glow in its eye sockets fading.

_Step forward, pull back. Now._

Natalie threw her arm, the ice rocketing forward. The javelin took the second skeleton’s head clean off, impaling it on the far wall. The third had now fully risen, making the unearthly screech she’d heard many times before. Her own battle cry burst from her lips before they both charged at each other.

_Catch the blade, arm inside chest cavity, fire._

Her gauntlet surged up on instinct, catching the skeleton’s sword and locking in place. If they could show surprise, this one would be. She thrust her right hand up into the ribcage, and with her runes sparking intensely, let loose through it.

The head flew off, hitting the ceiling with the lightning, an almighty crack as it did. Natalie turned to find Torbald locked in a struggle with the vampire, one he was sure to lose.

The vampire’s strength had overpowered Torbald and brought him to his knees, only his sword blocking the vampire’s own blade from cutting through him. Before Torbald could even think of how to win, the force stopped.

_Straight for the neck. Through the head._

Blood shot out of the neck of his enemy, spattering Torbald’s armour and the ground, which they futilely tried to stem with their hands. Steel clattered to the ground. Natalie’s dragonbone dagger ended any chance of surviving when it sprouted from between their eyes.

Hands fell limply to both Torbald and his opponent’s side. The body hit the ground with a sickening thud. The evil red glow over the eyes slowly dissipated, the monster vanquished. The red of blood stained the earth, soaking through.

He struggled to catch his breath, the fight had taken all he had, and it had barely lasted more than a minute. Something made a noise, caught the attention of the monster. It had turned, blade drawing and meeting Torbald’s before he could even think. Only Torbald’s training had saved him, he barely managed to keep up with the speed and ferocity this man had shown. Every blow felt like it would shatter his sword or go through his shield and cut him cleanly in half. The final connection of their weapons brought him to his knees, his shield abandoned on the floor. Both hands on his weapon just to stop the one of his enemy.

Any advice Natalie had given him flew straight out of his head once the fight had begun. He would not survive a fight with more than one of them. Natalie knew what she would have to do. For his own sake. For her sake as well.

She removed her mask, facing the panting Nord, “Go back to the fort Torbald.” She almost whispered it.

“What?”

“Go back to the fort. I’ll come back there after I’m done here, just please… go.”

“Why in Oblivion would I go back now?!” Torbald’s words came out strained, still gasping for breath.

“You just faced ONE of these creatures. What if we come up against two, or three, or even ten? You almost died just now. You would have if I weren’t here.”

“But you can fight them. I only failed because you let me go ahead of…”

“NO!” The yell silenced Torbald, the volume reverberating in his bones. Power had come through in that word. “I WILL NOT BE THE ONE TO TELL YOUR MOTHER AND GRANDFATHER WHY YOU WON’T BE COMING HOME. I… I can’t do that to them.” _Not again…_

Natalie’s display scared Torbald. He understood what she was trying to do, but surely, she could protect him from whatever they might face. The look in her eyes changed his mind. He could see suffering, there was something she wasn’t telling him. Now was not the time to press the issue.

“Okay, I’ll go. Promise me one thing though.”

“What?”

“Train me when you get back. Help me fight like you. I need to face these monsters. I need to do my part to save Skyrim.”

Natalie cocked her head, considering Torbald’s proposal. He was so much like his grandfather, eager to do his duty.

“I’ll train you. Don’t expect much. Most of this is done by instinct now. It’s not something easily taught.”

“Might as well try.”

Natalie nodded, straightening up, pulling the hood back over and fixing her mask. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” There was the voice again, coming from nowhere and everywhere. She spun on her bare heel, marching further into the crypt and out of Torbald’s sight.

Torbald got to his feet, retrieved his weapons and did as Natalie bid. He left the tomb, making for Fort Dawnguard.

Away from the danger.

It felt wrong.

Though, who was he to argue with the Dragonborn?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Breaching the Tomb

**Morndas, 11:52am, 21 st of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Depths of Dimhollow Crypt**

 

Natalie almost regretted sending Torbald away, but she knew it was for the best. Her instincts were right, he’d die if she’d let him come further. The fight to get this far into the tomb had been tough. Vampires, Death Hounds, skeletons and even Draugr had blocked her path. They now all lie dead, or deader than before she was through with them. Some impaled with ice spikes, shocked by lightning, pierced by arrows or even just a simple sword wound. She was nothing if not efficient.

She wiped the last bit of undead creature off her weapons, trying to dislodge anything that had been stuck in the plating of her gauntlet. “Ugh, disgusting”, she whispered to herself. One last bit just wouldn’t come loose. A small stream which seemed to dot the entire crypt was the answer, a quick dip washing away a fair amount of blood, and other indescribable fluids. “Really got to stop stabbing things with my fingers.” Shaking her hand out, she surveyed the room, deciding on an ornate door as probably the way forward.

Her ears perked up slightly at the faint sound of conversation drifting from beyond the door. She counted at least two different voices, but given what she’d faced before, there would definitely be more. One voice was definitely a vampire. The other, she couldn’t make out, but the words were coming in ragged bursts. Either a thrall, or an extremely unlucky individual the vampires had captured.

The door opened silently, Natalie creeping forward onto a small balcony. This was the first proper structure in the crypt, the rest dug out of the earth or only very simple. A large circular edifice took up the majority of the cavern, a complicated pattern surrounding it, completely surrounded by water. A small bridge led from it to a platform, with stairs up to the balcony Natalie was currently hiding on.

The conversation she had overheard was coming from two figures. A vampire and a kneeling man, who had the signs of being tortured. Natalie recognised his garb as that of the Vigilants. So, one of them had survived, but been dragged here by these monsters. Natalie counted at least four more vampires and several Death Hounds. She couldn’t rule out the possibility of even more, but she’d have to engage to see.

“I’ll never tell you anything, vampire.” This earned the man a hard slap, Natalie’s ears picking up a slight crack as his cheekbone fractured. “My oath to Stendarr is stronger than any suffering you can inflict on me.” He spat out blood, the ground around him already stained with it. His breathing was laboured, numerous cuts and bruises covered his body.

“I believe you, Vigilant Adalvald. And I don’t think you even know what you’ve found here.” Natalie’s eyes widened at the mention of the name. She needed to speak to him. He knew something.

Before Natalie could react, the vampire’s sword was hilt deep in Adalvald’s neck, piercing through his heart, “So, go and meet your beloved Stendarr.” A choked cry escaped Adalvald’s mouth as his lungs filled with blood. His body collapsed once the blade was removed, falling forward into the ever-increasing pool of blood under it. A Death Hound padded over to the corpse and began to lap up the blood.

The vampire sheathed his sword, walking slowly away from the Vigilant’s body towards the centrepiece of the cavern. Another followed him, obviously agitated, “Are you sure that was wise, Lokil? He still might have told us something.” The vampire Natalie now knew as Lokil turned to the other, “We haven’t gotten anywhere ourselves with…”

Lokil picked the other up by the throat, holding her as high as he could, arm completely locked out. “He knew nothing. He served his purpose by leading us to this place. Now it is up to us to bring Harkon the prize.” He dropped the other vampire, her feet failing to catch her as she collapsed to the ground, rubbing her throat. “And we will not return without it. Vingalmo and Orthjolf will make way for me after this.”

The vampire shakily got to her feet, still massaging her neck, “Yes, of course Lokil. Do not forget who brought you news of the Vigilants’ discovery.”

“I never forget who my friends are.” Lokil took a menacing step forward, “Or my enemies.” He strode off to the structure, the other following soon after.

Natalie hoped Adalvald’s notes had outlived him, perhaps his belongings were somewhere down there with the vampires. She’d have to take care of all of them before she started her search. All the vampires had crossed the bridge, leaving only the lone Death Hound on her side. If she was careful, she could take out all her targets one by one.

Making her way down the stairs, she padded close to the hound, silently drawing the dragonbone dagger.

_Careful, the slightest wrong step and it hears you. Lift and slice._

The hound’s throat opened just below where Natalie’s hand had grabbed it, its black blood staining her hand. The slightest whimper escaped, Natalie praying the vampires weren’t paying close attention to this side. She carefully lowered the beast to the ground, slinking back into the shadows and waiting, keeping watch. None of them seemed to notice their dead pet.

Four of the vampires were on the same side as she, the one they called Lokil on the opposite. She could take the four out before he had time to react. The Death Hounds only numbered two now, quick fire arrows would take care of them.

The bow was in her hand as she crossed the bridge, keeping as close to one side as she could, with three arrows in her right hand.

_Straight for the heart, sure to take them out. First. And the second. Third down._

All three arrows found their targets, taking two of the vampires and one Death Hound unawares. Their bodies thudded to the ground, the noise startling the rest of her enemies. She stowed her bow, two daggers released.

_Charge, straight in the back. Throw the other. Body-shield. Draw and execute._

Natalie rushed the nearest vampire, the daedric dagger plunging into her back, marks still on her throat from Lokil's grip. The dragonbone flew, catching the fourth and final in the head. Natalie grabbed the daedric dagger, using it as leverage to turn the body, allowing the Death Hound to bite down on her shield's shoulder. The ebony shortsword flashed down, decapitating the hound, before releasing the dagger, bodies now in a pile around her.

Slow clapping rang out, Natalie turning to the source, a smug Lokil, amused by her display, “Bravo, bravo! Such a show! Impressive, for a mortal.” He drew his own sword, a thin rapier. “Thank you for dispatching them.” He gave a mockery of a bow, “Saves me the trouble on the way back. And, ‘Random adventurer killed them’ is a much better excuse then what I’d been thinking of.” He walked a slow arc towards Natalie’s left, her eyes never leaving him.

Lokil was far more dangerous than the rest of the vampires she’d faced since entering the crypt. If his aura was anything to go by, he was older, wiser and certainly stronger. The almost carelessness she’d despatched the rest of the undead with would not work. Though, she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

“I’d ask what you were doing here, but to be honest, I don’t much care. I’d say a good feed is in order, and you,” he licked his lips, “look rather… spirited.”

“I’d recommend you look elsewhere to whet your appetite.” Lokil’s head cocked slightly at her voice, the reaction she’d been looking for as he puzzled over where her voice was coming from. “This isn’t going to end like you think.”

“Oh, I like you. Food and a fight… my favourite combination.” With that, he charged. His hand thrown out in front of him, a red beam of magic deflecting harmlessly off Natalie’s ward, as she spun out of the way of the approaching blade.

_Reinforce ward. Let him think he has won. Slide down and under. Strike true._

Natalie effortlessly recast her ward, turning back to face her enemy, already bearing down on her. The edges of metal screeched as they clashed, Lokil’s superior strength forcing Natalie to one knee. She made a show of buckling under the pressure. The grin grew even further over Lokil’s face. She waited until the last instant.

Natalie pivoted her knee slightly, her blade sweeping under Lokil’s as his rapier swung wide of her. The shortsword bit into his gut, Natalie using her all of her strength to push off the ground and bring it all the way through. She rolled on the other side, twisting to face him, the vampire’s scream of pain and frustration filling the cavern.

Lokil was barely holding himself together, a gaping wound spilling blood and organs now marring his side. “You little BITCH!” A growl spilled from his throat, along with a not-insignificant amount of his lifeblood, “You could’ve had a quick death, but now… I’m going to take my time, pulling every fucking piece of you apart.”

It was Natalie’s turn to smile, laughter spilling forth, “You gonna bleed on me? I told you before, this wouldn’t go like you’d think it would.”

With an unearthly shriek, Lokil charged, fangs completely extended, eyes burning red, magic flying.

_Deflect. Dodge. Dagger, straight up._

Natalie used her gauntlet to bat aside the vampire’s spell, stepping slightly to the side, before using the elven dagger in her right hand to stab straight into his neck. A quick sweep with her leg brought Lokil crashing to the ground, yelping in pain.

He was still alive. Natalie was impressed with this monster’s resilience, but his fate would be the same as his compatriots. Conjuring a spike of ice in each hand, she impaled his hands to the floor, locking him in place. A soft white light appeared in her hand, and with a small circular movement, the blood flow from around the dagger was stemmed.

Crouching next to him, his burning eyes attempting to kill her with malice, she tapped his chest with a sharp plated finger. “Now, you might not care what I’m doing down here, but I would be very much interested to know what you’re here for.” She pressed down a little harder, through his shirt and pierced the skin. “This can be easy for you. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll give you the quick death you promised me.” Jerking her fingers back and forth slightly, sparks ran between the metal digits, “Don’t tell me, and well…” She poured more power into the spell, placed her palm on his chest and shocked him.

Lokil struggled to talk around the dagger in his throat, his voice coming out in a croak, “Fuck off. I’d rather die than tell you anything.”

“Wrong answer.” More lightning poured into Lokil’s body, visible through the wound in his abdomen.

“You’re just going to have to kill me, mortal scum.” He said through gritted teeth, “Any pain you can dish out is nothing compared to what will happen if I talk.”

“Did you just assume there was a possibility I would let you live? That’s pretty stupid of you.” Natalie shocked him again.

 _I think he’s had enough, don’t you?_ Power suddenly flowed into Natalie, her eyes and runes glowing briefly gold. It was enough for the lightning to kill Lokil outright.

Natalie staggered back, falling onto the ground. “What the hell did you do that for? He might have told me something!”

The Mistress of Night’s anger flared, _And you thought the best way to get him to talk was torture? That is not what Nightingales do._

“Not what we do?! And what the fuck did you do when Frey butchered one of us?! Attacked Karliah and me! Stole the fucking Skeleton Key! How is any of that what Nightingales do?! When were you going to step in there?!”

 _You dare question ME?!_ Nocturnal’s voiced thundered through Natalie’s mind, enraged at her accusation.

“I…” Natalie fell silent under Nocturnal’s rage. She whispered back, “What do I do then? Go back to the Dawnguard and hope they know what to do next? I want this all to be over so I can go back home.”

Nocturnal’s voice softened, now a gentle caress in Natalie’s mind, _The answer is under your feet, my sweet. You only have to look._ And with that, she was gone.

“Under my feet?” She scanned around herself, small indentations spread out everywhere on the stone. All leading to a pedestal in the centre. The elf retrieved her weapons, cleaning the blades thoroughly. She moved the bodies away from the design imprinted on the floor, studying it carefully.

Every line, every curve centred around the pedestal, with no indication that anything was out of place. If it was under her feet, Natalie could not see a way aside from cracking the stone apart.

“Here goes nothing…” Natalie closed her eyes, focusing power between her hands. Small movements of her fingers conjured a ball of lightning, increasing in size and intensity by the moment, the runes down her arm pulsing with the same. She thrust her hands forward, releasing all the energy at once.

…It bounced off the stone, harmlessly impacting the cavern wall on the far side of the water, cracking the stone where it struck, but did little more than leave soot on where she’d aimed. Natalie sighed, “Damnit, Plan B it is.”

She removed her mask and hood, undoing the braid, and fanning her hair out behind her. Several sconces poked from the floor, and ran along some of the channels in the floor. Any of Natalie’s attempts to move them proved uneventful, and even Thu’ums proved ineffective, only serving to throw dust into the air, sending some of the corpses flying into the water.

The pedestal was the key, she was sure of it. Natalie padded closer, rotating around it, searching for any clue to get under it. A semi-sphere of stone atop the centrepiece was surrounded by a depression. She could hear air coming from under it.

Placing her right hand on it, she shoved it down.

A stone spike immediately erupted from the previously smooth stone surface. Her hand was impaled on it, a scream erupting from her lips. She had felt the bones in her hand move out of the way for the spike, fracturing several and her blood pouring out, soaking the stone. Her knees gave way under her, her hand unmoving. Her breathing came fast, tears coming unbidden to her eyes.

As soon as it had come, the spike retracted, Natalie slumping further to the ground and leaning back on the pedestal. Blindly unbuckling her archery glove, she studied the wound. The protrusion had carved a clean hole through, even width throughout.

Screwing her eyes shut, her gauntlet pulsed with steady white light, her flesh knitting itself back together. Her bones snapped back into place, every step as excruciating as the injury’s cause had been. New flesh sprung into existence, replacing the lost.

The pain finally ebbed away, and Natalie dared to open her eyes. The wound was now non-existent, only a small circular scar on her palm any evidence it had occurred. Her armoured archery glove was now useless, the hole had cut several of the fibres holding it together. She sighed, throwing it to the side. “Of course, there’s a trap. Why wouldn’t there be? Not a proper tomb without it.” She grumbled to herself.

Natalie released a breath, vision blurring slightly from the taxing spell. When it cleared, her surroundings had changed. One sconce now shined with purple energy, the others remaining dormant. The small channel leading to it had the same glow.

Natalie climbed to her feet, finding the sconces now moved with relative ease. The pattern was obvious. Line them up with the energy, and something was bound to happen. _The Nords really need to get better at hiding things_ she thought to herself.

Shifting the last sconce into place had the desired result. A slight rumbling preceded the entire platform’s shift. The bridge she’d taken to the platform crumbled to pieces. Natalie jumped to the centre as the energy made a jagged beam to the ceiling. The pedestal seemed to rise, but its surroundings were the ones moving, revealing the full extent of the structure.

Natalie’s mouth fell open at what Nocturnal had meant. A hollow in the stone revealed a woman, somehow in perfect condition, completely contained within. She almost started to analyse how the woman may have survived, before her eyes flickered, and she fell forward. Natalie caught her just in time and fell to her knees, supporting the woman’s head in the crook of her left arm, her back leaning on Natalie’s knees.

 

* * *

 

The darkness faltered. The scrape of stone on stone attacked her ears. Faint pinpricks of light invaded her vision from beyond closed eyelids. She felt herself falling, but the hard ground did not rush to meet her. Instead, her descent was slowly halted, before she was turned over and cradled.

She slowly opened her eyes, her vision clearing. A wood elf was holding her, a slight look of concern in her big forest green eyes. The woman sat up, clutching at her head where it was throbbing painfully. The wood elf moved in front of her, hand on her left shoulder. She hadn’t been attacked yet, so maybe this elf meant her no harm.

“Are you ok?”

“Ugh… where is… who sent you here?” The woman’s memory was fogged, it was hard to grab at anything specific to her current predicament.

“Easy, try to relax. You’ll be alright.” The elf’s pleasant smile put the woman a little more at ease, her auburn hair framing her face. “I’m Natalie, can you tell me your name?”

She screwed her face up as though it was hard to remember even a simple thing like this “S... Serana.” She fully focused on the elf now, scanning her once over. The bow over her shoulder and blades around her hips gave her pause, but she was confident she’d win if it came to blows. “I’m sorry, but how did you get here?”

Natalie in turn studied this strange woman. Her eyes were the most vivid gold she’d ever seen. Staring at them felt like she might sink in and drown. They were beautiful. Natalie shook her head slightly, clearing her throat, “Not exactly what you were expecting I’d bet.”

“I was expecting someone… like me, at least.”

She looked more closely at Serana’s eyes. It clicked in Natalie’s mind. That all too familiar depth. “You were expecting a vampire.” It all made sense now, why these vampires had come here. A rescue. Natalie would have to play this very carefully. She was too close to draw a weapon, and doubted she could summon magic fast enough to stop this woman from killing her.

“I was, yes.” Serana eyed Natalie with curiosity, “How did you know what I am?”

“I’ve had… dealings with people like you before.” Natalie glanced over at the bodies on the edge of the platform, a movement she hoped went unnoticed.

“People? Most would call us monsters or worse.” Serana sniffed the air. The aroma of death was heavy. Natalie gave off a scent most mortals would, but something was just a little bit off.

“Can’t judge someone till you’ve got to know them. Maybe you’re a good vampire.”

Serana laughed, a music that Natalie hoped would continue, “Well that’d be a first, wouldn’t it?” Serana turned slightly more serious, “Who sent you here?”

Natalie audibly swallowed, “A group called the Dawnguard.”

The vampire puzzled over this information, “That’s not a name I know. Doesn’t sound like a name vampires would choose either, so I’m guessing you weren’t sent here for my benefit.”

“You’d be correct there. I honestly didn’t even know you were here.”

“A slight comfort I suppose.”

“They’d probably want me to kill you.”

“Not fond of vampires, are they?” Serana smiled at Natalie, “Well look, kill me, you’ve killed one vampire. But if people are after me,” she motioned to the bodies on the edge of the platform, the tips of Natalie’s ears flushing slightly, “there’s something bigger going on. I can help you find out what that is.” Seeing Natalie’s discomfort, Serana continued, “And don’t worry about the ones up there. I’m pretty sure they weren’t here for my benefit either. So, thank you for dealing with them.”

Natalie breathed a sight of relief, helping Serana to her feet. “Why were you locked away like that? Seems like a lot of trouble to hide one person.”

Serana visibly bristled, “That’s… complicated. I’d... rather not get into that with you, if that’s all right. I’m sorry, it’s not that… it’s just I don’t know who I can trust yet. But, if you want to know the whole story, help me get back to my family’s home, and I’ll have a better sense of where we all stand.”

“Why would I do that? Releasing you and not attacking on sight isn’t reason enough to trust me? At least a little?”

“It isn’t. You’re skilled, that’s obvious. You probably realised attacking would’ve been futile from your position. No chance of drawing a weapon, and you assume I’m far stronger than you, so physical force of any kind wasn’t going to work.” Serana observed Natalie, gazing from head to toe, “You help me, I answer your questions, it’s that simple.”

Natalie considered Serana’s proposal. On one hand, this could be useful in learning what the vampires were doing in Skyrim. On the other, she was one of the beings she’d promised to help eradicate. “Ok… I’ll help you. Where does your family live?”

“They used to live on an island to the west of Solitude. I would guess they still do, creatures of habit as they are. Hopefully we can find a boat to take us there. Not the most welcoming place, but depending on who’s around, I’ll be safe there.”

“And I assume I wouldn’t be?”

“Probably not, but you look like you can handle yourself.”

“Why wouldn’t you be safe there, if it’s your home?”

“Let’s just say that my mother and father had a bit of a falling out. Don’t worry, I’m not in any danger or anything like that. It’ll just be more unpleasant to run into my father.”

“You don’t want to see him after all this time?”

“We don’t exactly get along. Ugh, saying it out loud makes it sound so… common.” Serana made a show with her hands, “‘Little girl who doesn’t get along with her father.’ Read that story a hundred times.”

Natalie nodded, plotting the course they’d have to take in her mind. She knew of no islands to the west of Solitude, but she’d never payed much attention to anything beyond Skyrim’s borders, so anything was possible.

“Any idea how to get out of here? Way I came in is a bust.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. This placed looks pretty different from when I was locked away. Don’t remember it being this far underground for a start.”

Natalie’s eyebrows shot up, “Wait, not underground? How long were you in there?”

The vampire scratched the back of her head, “Good question. Hard to say. Couldn’t really keep track of anything in there. I… I can’t really tell. A long time to be sure. Who is Skyrim’s High King?”

“That’s… really hard to answer. I guess it doesn’t have one? The Empire and the Jarl of Windhelm fought over it a bit over 50 years ago, but it was never really resolved. They reached a tenuous peace agreement, and that’s lasted since.”

“Empire?” Serana stared at Natalie confused, “What… what empire?”

“Um… THE Empire? From Cyrodiil?”

“Cyrodiil is the seat of an empire?” Serana ran her hands through her hair, groaning, “I’ve been gone far longer than I thought. Definitely longer than we planned. We better hurry. I need to get home so I can figure out what’s happening.”

As Serana walked away from Natalie to the edge of the platform, Natalie got a view of her back… and what was strapped across it.

Her mouth fell open, “Is… is that an Elder Scroll?”

Serana turned back, any sign of her previous friendliness evaporating, “Yes, it is, and it’s mine.”

Natalie snapped her mouth shut, “Where… why do you have it? Not exactly something you find lying around.”

“It’s… complicated. Lets just leave it at that.”

“And you’re carrying it in the open like that? Not under a cloak?”

Serana raised an eyebrow, “And what cloak would I hide it under?”

“That’s, a good point.” Natalie climbed to the edge of the platform. A small jump would get them to a ledge which looked like the way the vampires may have come in. “I think the exits this way.” She leapt, Serana soon following her up a short staircase and into the waiting passage.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 3:22pm, 21 st of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Depths of Dimhollow Crypt**

 

The passage they’d taken was longer than Natalie had anticipated. It had already taken more time to traverse than her whole trip from the entrance to the room she’d found Serana in. Unlike her previous travelling companion, Serana could fight, and very well at that. Her aptitude for magic was nothing short of amazing, almost matching Natalie’s own. The small dagger she’d had on her person blurred through the air, catching any enemy with extreme precision.

Natalie had forgotten the rush of charging into combat without having to worry about her companion. Torbald had been a poor substitute. She really would have to keep her promise to him now. If Serana later decided to attack the Dawnguard for what they were, someone there would have to be prepared.

“This feels like the right way” Serana said as she wiped her dagger free of Draugr fluid, “I was starting to worry.” Serana swayed slightly. “Does the air feel… heavy down here? I’m a little woozy, but it might just be from waking up.”

Serana stumbled forward, Natalie reaching out to catch her. She noticed the vampire looked even more gaunt than when she’d met her. Her eyes had lost some of their vividness, as though a cloud had settled in over them. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look a bit pale.” Serana turned her head to stare at Natalie, “I mean more pale.”

Serana massaged her temple, “I haven’t… eaten… in a long time. It’s probably that.”

“Oh! Uh, I’m sure we can find something.”

“I should have something,” Serana pulled open a small pouch on her belt, retrieving a vial of thick sanguine liquid. Unstoppering it, the liquid disappeared down her throat, some of the colour coming back to her cheeks.

“You just had a vial of blood sitting in a pouch for Divines know how long?”

Serana grimaced at the taste of the concoction, “It’s not blood. Well, not entirely. My mother invented it. It’s a potion to stave off the worst of a vampire’s hunger, gets us through for a bit longer.” Serana gave a weak smile, still visibly not herself.

Natalie shifted her shoulder under Serana’s arm, holding some of the vampire’s weight. “We better get out of here fast then. Find a nice bandit.” Natalie grinned.

Serana gave a short chuckle, surprised the subject didn’t raise any of Natalie’s obviously well-trained instincts for survival. Serana could easily sink her fangs into Natalie from this distance, but gave her the courtesy for releasing her from the prison.

They encountered no more enemies as they came to a chamber with daylight spilling into it from the far side. Natalie was still supporting Serana, though she was not sure if Serana actually needed it.

The vampire took a deep breath as they exited the cavern into almost blinding sunlight. “Ah, it’s so good to breathe again!” She raised a hand to shield her eyes, “Even in this weather, it’s better than that cave.” Both women pulled up hoods against the weather.

“I actually need to get back to the way I got into to the cave. Left my pack and cloak there.” Natalie looked around, “I think it’s this way”, she pointed in the distance.

“Can we meet back here?” Serana studied their surroundings, deciding on a direction where she could see faint smoke, “I’ll go find something to eat. Saves you carrying me.”

Natalie nodded, fastening the ebony mask over her face. Serana heard Natalie whispering, something she couldn’t make out. “Meet back here then.” Natalie’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?” It echoed in Serana’s mind.

“Your voice. I’m a vampire and even I can’t tell where its coming from.”

Natalie grinned behind her mask, her amusement coming through in her voice, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She cocked her head, “Besides, you get to keep some secrets, so why can’t I?” And with that Natalie spun and took off into the snow at an impressive speed for a mortal, leaving Serana to ponder her odd rescuer.

She finally had the chance to relax the façade. The full force of the hunger hit her. Fangs extended, skin tightening around her face, becoming the stuff of children’s nightmares. Her usual golden eyes changed, blood red orbs exchanged in their place. It was time to feed.

Serana sprinted off, at a speed which would outpace even the swiftest steed. After several minutes of this pace, the smoke was close, she could almost taste the sweet glorious prize. Her hunches were rewarded. A small camp was the source. A lone hunter, dozing in the afternoon sun. He would make for a perfect first meal. Normally, she may have compelled him to stay still while she fed. She would’ve wiped his memory, no idea that the event had even taken place.

This was not a normal feeding. He would not survive the encounter.

 _Thick muscled neck. Exposed. Just waiting. BITE. DEVOUR. FEED._ _The struggle is just entertainment. Helpless prey._

Serana grabbed the hunter, startling him from his sleep. Her fangs sank deep into his neck before even the thought of stopping them surfaced. Serana drank. This blood was the sweetest she’d ever tasted. Her power was coming back. As she kept drinking, the man slowly stopped struggling. His limbs fell limp to his side. His skin lost its lustre, turning grey. Serana finished, sinking all of her teeth into his flesh and ripping his throat out, swallowing the final prize.

She gradually returned to normal. The bloodlust in her eyes faded, the gold restored. Her cheeks filled out, the outline of bone far less prominent. She noticed a slight pain in her stomach. The hunter had managed to bury his dagger several inches into her gut. The blade was quickly removed, her hand radiating with black magic, wound sealing and clothes mending.

Breathing in the fresh autumn air, the sting of the sun returned. A reminder that was she was free once more. A quick flowing movement with her hand and the hunter’s remains were ablaze, along with the rest of his camp. Serana calmly made her way back to exit of her prison, whistling a happy melody as she walked.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 6:19pm, 21 st of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Outside Dimhollow Crypt**

 

Serana arrived at the meeting place to find Natalie cross-legged against the cave wall, picking at her gauntlet with a dagger. The sun had dipped low under the horizon, illuminating the elf in orange light. She’d removed her mask and hood, but her face was still hidden from view by the thick mane of auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders. Serana only now noticed the grey streaks within it. She didn’t think elves aged in that way. None she’d ever known had.

She saw the tip of Natalie’s ears shift at the sound of her approach, sheathing the dagger and giving her a bright smile, “You’re looking a lot better.”

“Feel a lot better. No more collapsing, hopefully.”

“West of Solitude then? The main road should be just down there, I know a pass through the mountains that should get us to the coast.”

Serana stiffened, “Is it possible to not take the main road? Its probably better if less people see me.”

“There won’t be many people on the road at night, we might even be able to make it to the mountains before sunrise.” Natalie considered Serana, “Doubt anybody would be able to tell you’re a vampire.”

“You did, and easily at that.”

Natalie grinned, “I’m not just anybody.” Natalie whistled piercingly, “Shadowmere!” Her shout echoed off the rock, sending some birds in the distance into flight.

The mare galloped over, coming to an easy stop in front of Natalie, nuzzling the elf’s face with her long snout. Natalie tied her pack to the saddle. Serana could not tell where the steed had come from, almost as if it had teleported to just out of their line of sight. She admired the beast, could sense the power coming off it. “Very impressive horse.”

“Isn’t she?” Natalie swung herself into the saddle, holding out a hand to Serana. “Unless you’ve got a horse stashed away somewhere, hop on.”

As Natalie scooted to the front of the seat, Serana took her hand, easily jumping up behind Natalie. The saddle was very snug with the two of them in it, Serana almost completely pressed against Natalie’s back. She felt the elf stiffen slightly when she wrapped arms around her waist, before relaxing and pulling the reins to send the mare galloping in the right direction.

They rode silently for some time, Serana finally deciding to break it, “Where did you get a Daedric horse?”

“Of course, you could tell right away.” Natalie shook her head, not at all surprised by Serana’s keen observation. “Would you believe she walked out of a pond?”

“I’ve heard stranger tales of the Daedric Lords, that’s for sure. They don’t give their favour freely though, what did you do to obtain such a magnificent beast?”

“I needed to get somewhere fast, and Shadowmere was the only one who could get me there.”

Serana waited for Natalie to continue, before speaking, “You’re not going to tell me anymore than that are you?” Natalie turned in the saddle to look at Serana.

“You said you don’t trust me. That means I’ve got to be careful how much I tell you doesn’t it?” Natalie’s mischievous smirk elicited a short chuckle from Serana.

“I suppose it does.”

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 12:40pm, 22 nd of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**West of Solitude, Skyrim’s Coast**

 

Shadowmere carried them as far as she could, the coast of Skyrim now laid out in front. Travelling solo had allowed Shadowmere to travel at her full speed, flying across Skyrim’s landscape. Natalie wished she could’ve done this on the way to the crypt, maybe she would have been able to save Tolan from his grisly fate, as well as Adalvald. She could’ve learned more about this situation, but she would have to live with not knowing.

Serana shielded her eyes from the blistering sun, pointing out across the water, an island barely visible through unnaturally thick fog. “See it? That’s where we need to go. I hope there’s a boat here somewhere, don’t fancy the swim.”

Natalie squinted her eyes, just making out the island Serana had indicated. “I think there’s a dock to the north, should be able to find a boat. May have to steal it though.”

“Better than swimming.”

“True.” Natalie laughed, both walking up the shoreline.

Natalie was right, they found a small dock with a rowing boat tied to it. Natalie knocked on the door of a small house nearby, receiving no answer. The interior was dark, no sign of life. “Guess no one’s home.” Natalie turned to find Serana already sitting in the boat. “Better get going before the owner comes back.”

Natalie joined her vampire companion, taking the offered oar. She began to unravel the knot holding them to the dock. “STOP!” Natalie froze, looking up to find a young Nord with a sword shaking in his boots. “That’s my boat! You can’t have it!” He stammered.

Climbing out of the boat, Natalie walked closer to the Nord, making no movement for her weapons. “If I promise to return it, can I borrow it? I just need to get to that island out there.” Natalie gave him the most reassuring smile she could.

The man turned pale, his sword falling slightly, “No one comes back from there. Boats go there and just… disappear.” His confidence renewed slightly, “Its my boat, and I said you can’t have it!”

“Please, this is rather urgent. You’ll have it back by the end of the day.”

“I said no, elf!”

That little switch in Natalie’s mind clicked. She sighed, spreading her feet slightly.

_Grab. Twist it. Pull. Bring foot up and pivot._

Faster than the man could react, Natalie had grabbed the blade of his sword and pulled it from his grasp. She pivoted on her left foot, her right foot rushing up and slamming into the side of his head, sending him instantly into unconsciousness. His body hit the timber of the dock with a dull thud. She buried the sword into the dock next to him.

As she returned to the boat, Serana remarked, “A bit much wasn’t it? Could’ve just threatened him. Didn’t look like he was going to last much longer under a verbal assault.”

“In my experience, most in Skyrim won’t give an elf anything without being forced to.” Serana slightly frowned at her, “Oh, I didn’t hit him that hard, he’ll be fine. And I was serious about bringing the boat back. It’s not like I’m going to carry it home with me.” Natalie grumbled, “Besides, he could do with a bit of manners. Respect for his elders.”

Serana laughed, “Then people should be falling over with respect around me.”

Natalie retorted, “Flash a bit of the old vampire charm and I’m sure they would.”

They pushed off, rowing out at a steady pace towards their destination.

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 1:52pm, 22 nd of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Volkihar Island**

 

The boat gently nudged the dock, Natalie throwing a loop of rope to stop it. The dock was secluded behind a crumbling watchtower, blocking view of the rest of the island. The two women climbed out onto the dock, Natalie stretching out her arms above her head. Natalie moved closer to the tower, studying the ancient structure. “I’ve never even seen architecture like this. How old is it?”

Serana sheepishly replied, “Built before I was born, so… old.”

Natalie rounded the tower, her mouth falling open. She hadn’t had a chance to look up during their boat trip, she’d been too focused on rowing. She was now confronted with a huge structure, a magnificent stone bridge running right up to the front door. “So… this is your home?”

“This is it. Home sweet… castle.”

“And you forgot to mention how huge it was?”

Serana nodded, “I didn’t want you to think I was one of those… you know, the women who just sit in their castle all day?”

“Can’t say I know that many women who live in castles.”

“I don’t know. Coming from a place like this, well… its not really me. I hope you can believe that.”

Natalie stood with her hands on her hips, “Well it’s damn impressive.”

“It’s something all right.” A faint smile appeared on Serana’s face, vanishing as quickly as it came. “Hey so, before we go in there…”

Natalie saw the grim expression twisting Serana’s face, “Are you alright?”

“I think so. And thanks for asking. I wanted to thank you for getting me this far. But after we get in there, I’m going to go my own way for a while. I think… your Dawnguard friends would probably want to kill everything and everyone in there. I’m hoping you have a bit more control than that.”

“I’ve been very good at keeping myself alive so far. I try to avoid fights I know I can’t win.”

Serana continued, “Once we’re inside, just keep quiet for a bit. Let me take the lead. If one of us says the wrong thing, it’s not going to be pretty.”

“In that case,” Natalie pulled her hood up and donned her mask, “I won’t say a word.” Serana noted that Natalie’s voice did not have the effect it had the last time she’d covered her face. A question for another time.

“Okay, lets go.” The duo strode up the path towards the bridge, a pair of menacing looking gargoyles perched on the foundations. Natalie was not surprised in the slightest when their heads turned, keeping their eyes on the invaders.

Natalie noticed Serana’s breathing had quickened, her hands folding over one another repeatedly. Before she could say anything, “HALT!” The watchman at the castle’s gate stepped forward, magic glowing in both hands. “Who goes there?!” Serana pulled down her hood, meeting the watchman’s eyes, which instantly widened, “L… L… Lady Serana?” The watchman was stunned for a moment, before regaining his composure, “Lady Serana’s back! OPEN THE GATE!”

The portcullis rose on command, the large front door of the castle revealed. Natalie marvelled at the intricate designs carved into it. She could have spent hours studying it, but sadly had to pass through them with some urgency.

A small atrium greeted them, several thralls standing at attention, weapons held aloft. Natalie was so far unimpressed by the castle’s defences. They didn’t look like they’d stand up to an assault by the Dawnguard. Natalie reconsidered her opinion on coming to the main hall. Two long tables ran down the sides of the room, one more placed perpendicular to them on the far side. Almost every seat was filled with a vampire in mid meal, the tables covered with half devoured corpses, bowls of organs and even the occasional thrall still clinging to life. Many more vampires hung about the edges, sipping from chalices.

Only one among them seemed to notice the two women, marching closer, “How dare you trespass here!” His steps faltered, “Wait… Serana? Is that truly you? I cannot believe my eyes! My lord! Everyone! Serana has returned!”

Serana glanced at Natalie, “I guess I’m expected.”

A voice rang out across the hall that chilled Natalie to the bone. “I can’t believe it.” Few beings could claim they had struck even a small amount of fear in the Dragonborn, let alone with only their voice. Alduin had been the last. Natalie could tell this voice would haunt her for some time. “My long-lost daughter returns at last.” Serana’s father strode over. Unlike his daughter, he made no attempt to hide his true nature, his eyes constantly burning with the raw power a vampire lord could have. “I trust you have my Elder Scroll?”

Natalie and Serana ventured further into the hall, meeting Serana’s father half way down. Every person in the room had stopped their feast to closely observe the exchange taking place, “After all these years, that’s the first thing you ask me? Not, ‘Oh Serana, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick’ or at least ‘You’re finally home!’. Yes, I have the scroll.”

If Serana’s tone bothered him, he made no sign of showing it, “Of course I’m delighted to see you, my darling daughter. Must I really say the words aloud?” A smile spread across his face, unsettling Natalie slightly, “Ah, if only your traitor bitch of a mother were here, I would let her watch this glorious reunion before putting her head on a spike.” His gaze shifted to Natalie, “Now tell me, who is this stranger you have brought into our hall?”

Natalie noticed Serana move ever so slightly closer to her, “This is my saviour, the one who freed me.”

He bowed to her, only bending half way down, “For my daughter’s safe return, you have my gratitude. Tell me…” He measured Natalie for a moment. She could feel his eyes penetrating even through her mask, “What is your name?”

“Natalie. And you are?”

He made a flourish, raising both arms in the air, “I am Harkon, lord of this court! By now, I assume my daughter will have told you what we are.”

“You’re vampires.”

“Ah, were it that simple. We are so much more.” Harkon rotated indicating everyone in the room, “We are among the oldest and most powerful vampires in Skyrim.”

 _He really loves to talk about himself,_ Natalie thought to herself.

“For centuries we lived here, far from the cares of the world. All that ended when my,” Harkon coughed before the next word, “wife… betrayed me and stole that which I valued most.”

“I’m a bit confused. Is that your daughter or the scroll?”

Serana glared at Natalie, a slight twitch in Harkon’s eyebrow the only indication of any insult she may have given. “My daughter of course.” He gave a smile which Natalie was sure he meant to be loving, but came across as possessive. She did not like this man.

“Is there a reward for finding your daughter? It certainly sounds like she’s been missing for a very long time.”

Harkon laughed, “Great minds think alike! I was about to suggest that very thing. Yes, you most certainly deserve a reward.” He paced in front of the two women, “There is but a single gift I can give that is equal in value to the Elder Scroll and my daughter.” Natalie rolled her eyes at the order in which he’d said it. “I offer you my blood. Take it, and you will walk as a lion among sheep. Men will tremble at your approach, and you will never fear death again.”

“And if I refuse this… gift as you call it?”

Harkon’s face darkened, “Then you will be prey, like all mortals. I will spare your life this once, but you will be banished from this hall. Your reward will be not dying. And if you were to return here… your death will not be swift.” When Natalie made no move to offer a reply, Harkon offered one of his own, “Perhaps you still need convincing? BEHOLD!”

Harkon’s form began to shift. Bones shifted underneath his skin, cracking as they did so. His hair retracted from his head, all of his teeth sharpening into fangs. Wings burst from his back in a shower of blood. His skin took on a grey hue, his clothing shifting as well. He took flight hovering ever so slightly above the ground.

“THIS IS THE POWER I OFFER! NOW, MAKE YOUR CHOICE!”

She stared at this floating monster for a moment. Everything had been made far more complicated in the last five minutes. She had learned nothing of what these vampires might be planning for the rest of Skyrim. The only way to do that would be to become a vampire. She had enough problems without the sun being one of them, so it wasn’t an option. She would have to regroup elsewhere, and come back to take them all out at once.

Natalie cleared her throat, stepping closer to Harkon’s menacing form, “I’m going to have to decline this generous offer. I have enough power of my own. Men already tremble when I approach, if they know what’s good for them. And I have never feared death.”

Harkon snarled at her response, “SO BE IT! YOU ARE PREY ONCE MORE, LIKE ALL MORTALS! I BANISH YOU FROM THIS PLACE! DO NOT RETURN!”

Harkon’s clawed hand glowed green, the magic enveloping Natalie. Her eyes widened as she was pulled through space and teleported out of the castle.

 

* * *

 

A green flash of light outside the castle appeared, depositing Natalie near the docks. She instantly fell to her knees screaming in pain. Her left arm falling limp at her side. She could feel blood start to well up under her gauntlet. She fumbled at her belt, drawing the dark green crystal she kept there from deep within a pouch, even as her vision began to blur from the agony. Quickly spinning it on the ground, magic flared around her gauntlet, the pain slowly subsiding.

She ripped off her mask, quickly wiping the few tears that had fallen from her eyes. As her breathing slowed, her gaze wandered to the castle. Even with the Dawnguard’s help, it was going to be a tough fight, especially if all of the beings in there could turn into the horrific form Harkon had displayed.

She boarded the boat, rowing back to shore. The Nord she’d knocked out looked like he’d only just came to, rubbing his jaw where her foot had connected. He cowered in fear as she strode past, “Told you I’d bring it back.”

There was only one thing she could do now; return to Fort Dawnguard, and hope they had maybe found something that would help in the fight. She called for and mounted Shadowmere, galloping as hastily as she could.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 9:12am, 28 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Dayspring Canyon**

 

On Natalie’s return to Fort Dawnguard, she found the members battling a small invading force within the canyon. Torbald had apparently only just arrived back too, Natalie had passed his horse tied to a small tree before the battle. He was still in the same armour she’d left him in.

_Throw, avoid hitting him. Dodge, counter. Stab down. Catch. Full force now._

She had to be careful with her magic, everyone was fighting too clustered. One of her ice spikes nearly impaled a Dawnguard troop, and a fresh one at that. She wasn’t sure if he’d been here when she’d left. Most of the invaders were thralls, easily dispatched with simple sword-work or a small amount of magic. Only two vampires had been with them, the Dawnguard taking care of one, while Natalie dodged around the second, countering his attacks and inflicting multiple grievous wounds with her sword. With his last swing, Natalie was able to catch his weapon, swung with fleeting strength, driving her own through his chest.

Isran was among the Dawnguard fighting, one of the few who looked like they’d actually fought before. He caught sight of Natalie, quickly approaching her, “Look at this. I should have known it was only a matter of time before they found us. It’s the price we pay for openly recruiting. We’ll have to step up our defences.” Torbald joined them, still panting from the fight. “I don’t suppose you two have any good news for me?”

“I… won’t… she… sent me… back… before we… found… anything.” Torbald bent over double, supporting himself with his hands on his knees.

“Do you have any good news for me then Dragonborn?”

Natalie frowned, “Not exactly.”

“Damn. Well, lets head up to the fortress. We can speak there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Training the New-Blood

**Morndas, 9:30am, 28 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Fort Dawnguard**

The fort was a little busier than when Natalie had been here such a short time ago. The Dawnguard had received a rush of new recruits, filling out their numbers. There didn’t seem to be any improvement in quality, but with this many people, maybe there would be at least a few who showed some aptitude for the danger they would have to face.

The recruits stared as Natalie and Isran entered the fort. Evidently everyone now knew who she was. The rumours would only grow from the fort, and soon the whole of Skyrim would know the Dragonborn had returned. Any desire to keep her involvement quiet evaporated with their stares. She’d just have to make the best of the situation, and end it fast.

“Can we speak about this privately?” Isran had stopped in the main room, surrounded by his troops, so Natalie was almost whispering to him, “It might cause a panic if what I have to say is heard by everyone in here.”

Isran nodded, seeing the sense in Natalie’s words, “Follow me then.” He led her to the upper floor of the fortress. Natalie noticed cracks in almost every wall, and even some vines growing through. The Dawnguard had not put nearly as much effort into maintaining the top of their fort as they had the foundations and the main floor. She hoped they wouldn’t have to fight up here. A well-placed spell could bring the whole fortress crashing down onto anyone below. Isran shut the door to a small armoury he’d led them to, the Redguard eyeing Natalie. “Right, what news do you have then?”

“Some but it’s not good.”

“Of course. Why did I suppose differently? Fine, tell me what you found.”

“Tolan’s dead. He’d arrived at the tomb before Torbald and I, entered without any backup. He barely made it through the first room.”

“Damn fool. I told him not to go. The Vigilants always had more bravery than sense. Did you at least find out what the vampires were looking for in there?”

“It was full of the creatures, along with their pet dogs. It seems they were looking for a woman sealed in the crypt.”

“Wait, a woman? Trapped in Dimhollow? That doesn’t make any sense. Who is she? More importantly, where is she?”

“This is the weird part, she wanted to go home, so I took her to her family’s castle.”

“Are you going to start making sense?”

“She’s the daughter of a powerful vampire lord.”

Isran was silent for a moment, eyes narrowing, “And so you delivered her to him.”

“It was that or I’m pretty sure she would’ve killed me. I’m a big fan of not dying.” Natalie shifted her feet, “They also have an Elder Scroll.”

“They have a what?” Isran’s eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, “And you didn’t try to stop them? You didn’t try to take it?”

Natalie narrowed her eyes at Isran, “There was a castle full of them, and only one of me. I’m extraordinarily powerful, but I’m not going to start a fight with a bunch of vampires with millennia of experience between them. Also, don’t take that tone with me again. I’m not one of your subordinates, do NOT talk to me like one of them.”

Natalie’s abrupt change in demeanour staggered Isran’s train of thought for a moment, “Yes, well…” he cleared his throat, “So, they have everything they wanted, and we’re left with nothing.” He began pacing about the room, “By the Divines, this couldn’t get much worse. This is more than you and I can handle.”

“So, you’re just going to give up?!” Natalie was incredulous. Here was a man who claimed he would do anything to stop an enemy, but was now talking about almost giving up.

Her raised voice brought his full attention back to her, “When did I say that? We just need… we need help.”

“You’re not going to find much. Nearly every army in Skyrim has been disbanded for years. I’m already helping, so you can’t gain me as an ally.” Natalie ran her fingers through her hair, “We have to do something.”

“Well of course we do. I’m old, not stupid. We’re just going to need help.” Isran resumed his pacing, “They’ve already attacked here, so they know where to strike. If they did that, then this may be bigger than I thought. I have good men here,” Natalie raised one eyebrow, Isran payed no attention, “but… there are people I’ve met and worked with over the years. We need their skill, their talents, if we’re going to survive this. If you can find them, we might have a chance.”

“How many are we talking here?”

“Two come to mind.”

“Two? That’s it? How are two people going to help?”

“They’re not meant to stop the whole problem by themselves if that’s what you’re thinking. One is a Breton, Sorine Jurard. Whip-smart and good with tinkering. She’s been studying all manner of Dwemer devices. I think she might be able to build us some weapons, or at least put traps in to slow the vampires down.”

“Okay, that’s better than what I thought you were going to say, it has promise.” Natalie turned away, “And the other?”

“Gunmar is his name. Big-brute of a Nord. Hates the monsters almost as much as I do, for other reasons of course. Very good with animals. He thought he could, shall we say, persuade some trolls to fight for him.”

“Persuade trolls?” Natalie scoffed, almost laughing in Isran’s face, “Talking to a troll involves you saying something, and the troll throwing the nearest object at you.”

“He can do it. I’ve seen it. Armour those things up, and we’ve got shock-troops to take the vampires with strength to match their own.”

“Send scouts to find them. Once they’re here, we can plan the next move.”

Isran stared at Natalie confused, “Wait, what are you going to do?”

“I promised I’d help Torbald. Hopefully I can teach him something he can pass on to the rest of your troops.”

“Shouldn’t you train all of them? Surely that would be more effective.”

“Look, I’m not even sure how much I can teach Torbald. Half of my fighting style involves my bow or magic. I can’t teach any one of them to use a bow well enough in the time we have, and unless they are prodigies in magic, I can’t teach that either.” Natalie turned back to Isran, “So the only thing I can do, is show one of the few soldiers you have with any talent how to face these monsters with a sword. And maybe, just maybe, he can pass it on to the others.”

The look in Natalie’s eyes gave no room for argument, Isran conceding almost immediately, “Okay. Train him then. I’ll send out scouts to find Sorine and Gunmar. Might send out a few more to drum up more numbers. Though more soldiers mean more chance for thralls, and if what you said is true, these vampires won’t have a hard time turning them.”

“You’re right. Not many could resist these vampire’s charming ability. A few more soldiers couldn’t hurt, particularly if you can find ones with archery skill. I wouldn’t get more than a few though, fort is nearly full as it is.”

“Sounds like a plan then.”

Isran left the room, leaving Natalie to her thoughts. She’d have to make good on her promise now. She hoped Torbald could learn enough to keep himself alive in the coming days.

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 3:20am, 29 th of Sun’s Dusk, 4E 257**

**Fort Dawnguard**

 

Natalie aimed a light kick to Torbald’s back, starling him awake. The bewildered boy stared at the point of Natalie’s sword, aimed squarely between his eyes. Natalie grinned at his shock, “Ready to train?”

“Train? Now? What time is it?” He said, stifling a yawn.

“Few hours before the sun should be rising.”

Torbald gave her a blank stare, “The sun hasn’t risen? Why the hell are we training now?”

“It’s better now. Less people in the yard, means more room and less distractions.” Natalie’s tone brokered no argument, “And do you really think the vampires are going to attack during the day? Cover of darkness benefits them twice over. And don’t say you’re too tired, they won’t care if you are.” Natalie strode off towards the fort’s entrance, “I’ll be waiting outside, be quick.”

Torbald sleepily put his armour on, fumbling with the buckles. He was yawning when he finally made it outside, looking around in the darkness for Natalie. She was standing completely still in the middle a training circle, hands behind her back.

“Took your time.”

“Had to put my armour…” Torbald caught the practice sword Natalie had thrown at him. Before he could even get his bearings, her own sword had thwacked him across the knuckles, his sword clattering to the ground. “OW! What the hell was that for?!” He inspected his hand, a bruise almost immediately forming.

“Lesson one; always be prepared for an attack.” Natalie’s blade was aimed at his chest, before dropping calmly back to her side. She was going to enjoy this.

Torbald bent to pick up his weapon, earning another smack from the flat of Natalie’s blade, this time on his upper arm. “I haven’t even picked it up!”

“Lesson two; never take eyes off the enemy.” She circled around him, his eyes following wearingly.

He quickly snatched the blade up, bring it up into a two-handed grip. Natalie stopped, cocking her head to one side. She motioned with two fingers of her gauntlet. Torbald charged, bringing his sword from the side in a wide arc.

_Under the blade, bring leg round, take his legs out. Quick elbow, just enough to leave a mark._

Natalie ducked under his blade, swinging her leg through Torbald’s. Springing to her feet, she slammed her elbow into the centre of his back, his body sprawling into the dirt. She was surprised how quickly he regained his footing, turning to face her once more.

“Good, you’re getting the basics. Third lesson; all vampires are stronger than you.”

 Torbald began to protest, “But I’m…”

She held up her hand, “It’s a fact get over it. They’re stronger than you, stronger than me, stronger than everyone but their own kind. So, what you did in the crypt was stupid. The sneak attack would’ve worked if you’d been successful. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. What you did next was the stupid part. You’ll never overpower them in a straight sword fight. You have to use their own strength against them. Parry and dodge as best you can until you see an opening. Drive all the force there.”

It was Natalie’s turn to charge, she danced around Torbald, striking his sword again and again in quick succession. She could see him struggling to keep up. After several minutes, more of Natalie’s strikes were landing away from Torbald’s weapon, his guard breaking. She pressed him further. She was almost disappointed till he’d listened.

Parrying her blade and twisting his own, Torbald stepped to the side, her weight carrying her forward, sword swinging wide of him. As quick as he could, his sword was swinging for Natalie’s newly exposed back.

The smile disappeared from his face as his sword met metal, the sharp ringing as his sword struck hers. Faster than he could even see, she’d brought her sword over her shoulder and met his strike, two hands gripping the blade over her shoulder. “Good. Maybe you were listening.” With a quick display of masterful swordsmanship, his blade was gone, gripped firmly in Natalie’s hand. “Or maybe not. Never lose concentration. They won’t give you another chance if you slip up.”

She tossed the sword back, Torbald barely catching it as he panted for breath. “How long are we going to do this?”

Natalie grinned at him, “Until you can beat me.”

“Beat you? I didn’t even see you move to block that last attack! How am I going to beat you?!”

His sword rushed to block her strike, “Keep trying till you get it right. After all, practice makes perfect.”

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 5:45am, 7 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Fort Dawnguard**

 

Every night, Natalie would wake Torbald to train. Hours would pass with no breaks, only ceasing their combat when the sun rose. When he’d collapse from exhaustion, Natalie forced him to his feet, kept pressing him till he fought back. He’d learned not to fall now, even when all of his muscles threatened to give out.

Some of his grandfather’s skill for the sword was showing through, somehow passed down the generations. Their training sessions had been rumours the first few nights, now Dawnguard soldiers watched them every night, their numbers ever increasing. Natalie wouldn’t be surprised if one night the entire fort were watching. None of them dared to ask the Dragonborn for a lesson, only watching as she trained one of them. Natalie noticed a few of them during the day had improved, making fewer mistakes and learning from the ones they did make. Maybe they would survive after all.

She was impressed with Torbald’s progress in such a short time. With how fast he was progressing, it wouldn’t be long before he could defeat most vampires single-handedly. The stronger creatures she’d seen at Serana’s castle would defeat him easily, but they would almost give even Natalie pause, so she wasn’t worried about them just yet.

“You’re improving”, Natalie’s compliment almost startled Torbald before he regained his composure, continuing to circle his target in the ring, his new-found skills kicking in. “I think it might be time to take this to the next level.”

“And what would that be?”

Natalie brought her gauntlet up, faintly glimmering, rotating her wrist in unison with the digits making a fist. She abruptly straightened her arm, a shimmering ethereal sword extending from her grip. “Magic.” Making use of Torbald’s surprise, she sprinted at him, both her weapons slamming into Torbald’s, forcing him to a knee. “Now, this is where you almost died last time. How do you get out of it?!” Her yell alarmed Torbald into action.

A quick uppercut to the gut sent her reeling away from Torbald. He took the opportunity, pressuring both blades with precision strikes. Finally, she had to put in effort. His assault continued around the ring, their weapons meeting again and again, steel against steel, steal against magic. She began adding small ice shards to her form, blunted to not cause injury. Torbald blocked them with his sword as best he could, adapting quickly to this new challenge.

He kept her on the backfoot, every word she’d drilled into him echoing in his ears. _Never let your guard down. Don’t lose concentration. Use their own strength against them. Keep the upper hand at all costs._

Natalie ended their fight abruptly. Suddenly falling backwards, she dropped her weapons, landed on her hands and pushed herself into a handstand. Her foot passed through Torbald’s guard, catching his jaw with just enough force to take him off his feet onto his back. Back on her own feet, she offered him a hand. “I think we’re done for today.”

Torbald rubbed his jaw, taking her hand, “What, no waiting till sunrise?” If he was honest, he was glad for the break. He thought every new day would mean his body finally quitting on him. Everything hurt, muscles he didn’t know he had hurt.

“It’s starting to now.” The sky had only just turned the palest orange, barely registering in the inky black of Skyrim’s sky. “The punch was a good plan, left yourself a little bit open if I’d applied more pressure, but good plan.”

“’Never forget your fists, they’re always there to help.’” Natalie smiled at Torbald.

“Smart advice.” She stalked back to the fort, murmurs passing through the gathered crowd as she passed them. the moment Natalie entered the fort, the soldiers swarmed Torbald demanding their own lessons.

Natalie strode past everyone in the awakening fort, locking the door of the room she’d been given. Her weapons clattered to the floor as she collapsed onto the bed. She flopped onto her back, the ceiling becoming very interesting. She drifted off into a fitful sleep, planning the next ways to prepare Torbald for these enemies.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 11:30am, 7 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Fort Dawnguard**

 

Natalie was rudely awakened by a pounding on her door. She groggily got to her feet, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. She unlocked the door to a very alarmed Torbald. “You better get out her now. It’s about to get ugly.”

“What the hell are you on about?”

“There’s a vampire here, asking to speak to you.”

“A vampire…?” -Natalie’s eyes widened in realisation- “Oh fuck.” A quick wave of her hand set her weapons flying, securing themselves to her frame. She sprinted through the fort, rounding the corner to what she’d feared.

Serana stood nonchalantly in the centre of the room, inspecting the nails on one hand. Dawnguard soldiers almost completely covered the outer wall, aiming crossbows, bows or swords at the intruder. Isran stood the closest, his own crossbow level with Serana’s head. The Elder Scroll was exactly where Natalie had seen it last, strapped securely across Serana’s back. Her eyes found Natalie, a hint of a smile threatening to spill onto her face.

Natalie scanned the room. Every soldier was determined to kill the woman they’d surrounded. They tried, and they would die, Natalie had no doubt.

Isran was the first to cut through the deafening silence, “Now… Dragonborn. Be so kind as to tell us all, why, by the eight fucking Divines, there is a VAMPIRE looking for you?! Making friends with them, are we? Betrayed us already?”

Her voice was close to a growl, “Lower your weapon Isran. That goes for all of you. Attack and you’ll die.”

“Is that a threat?” Isran’s stare landed on Natalie.

“More of an observation.” None of them made a move. “Oh, for fucks sake…” Natalie breathed in summoning her power, lowering her head to stare at the floor, the air thrumming with unrestrained energy, “ _ZUN HAAL VIIK_!”

The Thu’um echoed and rebounded off the floor. As it spread, weapons were catapulted away from their owner’s hands, disappearing down the various hallways off the room. Natalie drew her own sword, “Now, if any of you are stupid enough to pick up a weapon again, I will personally take it from you and ensure you never hold one again.” Every soldier nodded, Natalie’s display had frightened them beyond belief. Only Isran did not cower, his eyes full of rage as he stared at what he thought had been an ally.

Natalie grabbed Serana’s hand, pulling her deeper into the fort. The two women entered her room, locking it and Natalie casting a muffling spell on it.

“Bet you weren’t expecting to see me again.” Serana’s tone was slightly jovial, inappropriate for the situation in Natalie’s mind.

Natalie calmly collected her thoughts, “That’s an understatement. To be totally honest, I thought I was going to have to kill you at some point.” Natalie focused on Serana’s face. This confession seemed to have done nothing to dampen Serana’s mood, “What are you doing here? Literally the last place I can think of you’d want to be.”

“Yes, you’re right there. I’d rather not be here either, but I needed to talk to you.” Natalie quirked an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important, so please just listen, then decide what to do. I don’t really want to have to fight my way out. There’s enough blood on my family’s hands.”

“Right.” Natalie perched on the edge of her bed, “I’m listening.”

“It’s… well,” Serana’s face scrunched up, “God, this is hard to explain. Okay, it’s about me, and the Elder Scroll that was buried with me.”

“I’d assumed that would factor in somehow. Not something you mess with unless you really need to.”

“The reason I had it… and why I was locked in Dimhollow. It all comes back to my father.”

“He really doesn’t give good first impressions.” Natalie’s smile brought on Serana’s own before her serious expression returned.

“No, he really doesn’t. Even by vampire standards, he’s not a good person. I swear he wasn’t always like this. He… turned a while back.”

“Turned? How do you mean?”

“He got his hands on an extremely obscure prophecy and just kind of lost himself in it.”

“Oh great, more prophecies. What’s this one say?”

Serana was slightly taken aback by Natalie’s response but pressed through, “Its utterly pointless and vague, same as all of them. He latched onto the part that said vampires would no longer need to fear the sun. That’s what he’s after. He controls the sun, and vampires can control the world.”

The elf scratched her ear, processing this new information, “How far did he lose himself? How far is he willing to go to achieve this exactly?”

“He’s completely absorbed… obsessed. He’s done horrible things, even by my standards. He fancies himself vampire royalty. If true, this prophecy would allow him to become king of all Tamriel overnight, and there isn’t a soul alive who could stop him.”

“How long has he known about the prophecy? Why act now of all times, why not sooner?”

“He couldn’t. My mother and I didn’t want to start a war with the entirety of Tamriel, so we tried to stop him. My mother sealed me away with the scroll. We’d hoped this would stop him in his tracks. If you hadn’t shown up at Dimhollow, I doubt I could have gotten away from his minions.”

Natalie tapped her forehead with gauntleted fingers, “You’ve really taken a risk coming here.”

Serana nodded, “I did, yes. But something about you makes me think I can trust you… Dragonborn.”

Natalie’s head snapped to attention, coughing slightly, “Ah… yes.”

“I knew there was something special you weren’t telling me. You’re far more interesting than I thought. I’m sure my father wouldn’t have let you go if he knew.”

“Few would. Few would have a chance to stop me either. Your father could’ve done it I think.” Natalie rose from her seat, “Right, now for the fun part. Convince the anti-vampire army to aid a vampire stopping a bunch of other vampires… this’ll be easy.”

Natalie left the room, returning with Isran in tow. His anger had not subdued in the slightest, barely checked rage burning through Serana.

Isran rounded on Natalie immediately, standing far too close for her liking, “Heard what this monster has to say have you? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t cut it’s fucking head off and mount it on a pike over the main gate.”

She shoved Isran lightly in the chest, forcing him to stumble slightly, “First, what the fuck did I say about how you talk to me? Second, we’re going to need her help.”

“HELP?! These creatures don’t help anyone but themselves. All they deserve is a swift death.”

Natalie’s patience was wearing thin. She attempted to calmly explain the situation to Isran, who obviously didn’t believe her.

“You actually believe all that shit? Putting the sun out? Do you take me for an idiot?”

“Why else would she risk her life to come here?”

“Maybe it finally realised what a monster looks like, and came here to die. Maybe it’s insane. I don’t really fucking care.”

Her own anger exploded, her voice raising, “Set your hatred aside and look at the larger picture, Isran!”

“Excuse me? Set it aside? Not a chance. It’s what keeps me strong.”

“You don’t trust her, fine. Trust me. I believe her. Without her help, we all die. And if you hadn’t got the message by now, she brought the fucking Elder Scroll. If her plan is to die here, why would she deliver an artifact so vital and valuable, wars have been fought over them?”

This halted Isran’s anger. Reason finally dawned in his eyes. “Fine. We can use it. But, if it so much as lays a finger on anyone here, I’ll hold you responsible. Got it?”

Natalie almost killed Isran right then and there, instead forcing a reply through clenched teeth, “Got. It.”

Isran rounded on Serana, “You hear me? Don’t feel like a guest. You’re not. You’re a resource. An asset. Don’t make me regret my sudden outburst of tolerance and generosity, because if you do, your friend here is going to pay for it.”

“Thank you for your kindness.” Serana replied with all the sarcasm she could muster, giving a half bow, “I’ll remember it the next time I’m feeling peckish. And if you seriously think you could hurt Natalie, you’re more delusional than I gave you credit for.”

Isran looked like he might have a retort, but instead spun and marched out, slamming the door as he did.

A short laugh spilled from Serana’s lips when the muffling spell was back in place, “That was fun. We should do it again some time. He just brightens every room he enters.”

Natalie groaned, “I’m just glad I didn’t have to put him in his place. Right, that’s over with. Where do we start with this whole, -” she waved her hand around “-stopping your father thing?”

Serana pulled the Elder Scroll over her shoulder carefully cradling it with two hands, “First things first, we need to read this. And seeing as neither of us are going to do that, we need to find someone who can. It should tell us something that will help.”

“I’ve read one before, but that was under very specific… circumstances… really rather not do it again. Who can read them safely?”

Recovering from the shock of Natalie’s revelation, “Well, the Moth Priests in Cyrodiil are the only ones I know about. They spend years preparing to read just one. We’re half a continent away, so they’re no use.” Serana suddenly snapped to attention, her focus completely on Natalie, “The College! They know things they probably shouldn’t. Maybe they can help.”

Natalie swallowed, “As in The College of Winterhold?”

“Of course. Though, it might be hard to get in, seeing as neither of us are members.”

“That’s not strictly true. I’m a member… of a sort.”

Serana beamed, “Just when I thought you couldn’t surprise me. Excellent, off to Winterhold then.”

“You don’t want to wait till nightfall?”

“That just gives my father more time to track me down. I didn’t exactly tell him I was leaving. And he’s not going to take losing an Elder Scroll lightly.”

“Fair point, I’ll grab my gear then.”

Their path through the halls of Fort Dawnguard was flanked by soldiers of the Dawnguard. Many turned their heads away, some in fear, others in disgust of Serana even being allowed to walk freely and unchallenged. They met no resistance, until the final hurdle.

Isran blocked the great doors of the fortress, standing square in the middle of them. “I’m just supposed to let you walk out, then am I? Why shouldn’t I turn the men on you and take that Elder Scroll for the Dawnguard?” His head swivelled to Serana, “Your father needs it to complete the prophecy, doesn’t he? Why not keep it here, instead of letting it leave with one of you monsters?”

Natalie snapped. She’d had enough. Whispering to herself briefly, she stepped closer to Isran, the force of her Voice causing him to stumble, “ISRAN! You saw what I did to your men with three simple words.” Her voice echoed throughout the fortress, every single being hearing it at the same volume, “I’m going to say this once. MOVE. Let us leave. Or I’ll move THROUGH you. You can either choose to help me, or stay the fuck out of my way.”

His defiance lasted only a few more seconds. He moved as Natalie had ordered him to. Natalie and Serana strode past him into the midday sunlight. Their hoods were pulled up as they marched from the fort, many of the Dawnguard soldiers watching from the battlements. Their would-be saviours. And all they could do was watch as they left.

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 3:45pm, 11 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Winterhold**

 

As usual, the town of Winterhold was almost deserted. Even after its resurgence a few decades prior, the town had only grown slightly. The destroyed buildings Natalie had seen when first arriving to the town were gone, replaced by new structures. More houses had been built, extending the town’s footprint, but still paled in comparison to the capitals of the other holds.

Natalie liked the quiet. No random citizens asking for help, no interrupting her thoughts. It was peaceful. The snow helped as well, she’d always much preferred the cold. It was a major reason she’d even been in Skyrim all those years ago. The heat of Valenwood had never agreed with her.

Natalie stopped Serana as they came closer to the bridge that would lead to the College, “One second, let me put something on.”

“Okay?” Serana looked at Natalie quizzically as she rooted around in her pack. She produced a small amulet, its face engraved with the College’s symbol. When she placed it around her neck, it briefly lit up, shining with a deep blue glow, before fading to nothing. “You are a member of the College then.”

“I am yes, don’t go saying it so loudly. Winterhold doesn’t trust the College, not after everything that’s happened. And hide the Scroll, the people in there might actually know what it is.” Natalie handed Serana a short cloak she’d pulled from somewhere in her pack. It just reached Serana’s knees, hiding the Scroll but doing little else.

They came to the bridge, a lone High Elf standing guard. He didn’t even notice them until the two women had nearly knocked him over. “Halt! Only mages of the College may pass this point.” His skin turned pale, his eyes locking onto Natalie’s amulet, then onto Natalie herself. “Ar-Ar-Arch Mage! It’s an honour ma’am!” He bowed as deeply as he could, Natalie was convinced he would fall over. “Have you any need of me?”

“No, I need to speak to Urag. I assume he is in the Arcanaeum?”

“Yes of course.” He moved to block Serana’s path into the College. “Only members of the College may-”

“She’s coming with me.” Natalie’s voice was calm, but forceful. This was a command, not a request. “You are not to breathe a word of my presence here understand? No matter who asks, neither myself or my companion were here.”

“Of course, Arch Mage, whatever you say.”

They were halfway across the bridge when Serana finally couldn’t contain herself, “ARCH MAGE?! You’re not just a member, you’re the bloody leader of the whole place. Dragonborn and Arch Mage? Any other unbelievable positions you hold?”

Natalie grinned, “A few. This is my favourite though. Ever since I first discovered magic, I’ve wanted to learn everything there was to know. What better place than here? Helps to have a prodigious talent for it too.”

“If it’s your favourite, why do you want no one to know we’re here? I understand not wanting people to know I’m here, but why yourself? If you’re the head of the whole place, why the secrecy?”

Natalie’s grin faded instantly, replaced with a sorrowful frown, “Um, two reasons. First, if no one knows either of us are here, no rumours spread of our location, harder for your father to find us.”

“Fair enough, the second?”

“The second is more… complicated. Let’s just say there was an incident here a few decades ago. It was completely my fault. Mages died for my failings. I’m not the most popular Arch Mage the College has ever had.”

“What happened?” Serana’s concern touched Natalie, but didn’t persuade her to share.

“I… can’t really talk about it.” Her hand unconsciously rubbed her stomach, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine, bit of a painful memory.”

Serana nodded, leading the rest of the way across the bridge. The gates into the College proper opened automatically, revealing the large courtyard. The pool of magicka projected its beam towards the heavens as it always had, casting an ethereal aspect on everything its light touched. Serana stopped to admire it, but quickly caught up to Natalie when the elf sped on ahead.

The Arcanaeum was near empty, the only soul in it that of Urag gro-Shub, the librarian. The elder orc didn’t look like he’d aged from Natalie’s perspective, the same grim expression he’d always worn etched across his face. “Ah, Arch Mage. Gracing us with your presence once again.” His deep voice echoed through the empty room, not even looking up from the tome he was perusing.

“Good to see you can still do your job in your old age.”

The orc finally looked up, glaring at Natalie before breaking into a hearty laugh, “We can’t all galivant around the world. Some of us have responsibilities.” He turned his gaze to Serana. “And who would this be? Let me guess. Dragonborn business?”

Natalie shifted from one foot to the other. “Of a sort. I need to find someone. And we’d hoped you could help.”

“Anything you need. I live to serve the College.”

“I need to find a Moth Priest.”

Urag’s eyes widened, his expression turning serious, “A Moth Priest? What in Oblivion do you want a Moth Priest for?” His eyes narrowed, drilling into Natalie’s, “You have an Elder Scroll, don’t you? You need to read it?”

In turn, Natalie narrowed her own eyes, “My business is my own. Just tell me what I need to know.”

“Fine, fine. No need to get your breaches in a twist. It’s obvious. Go to the Imperial City. Plenty of Moth Priests in the White Gold Tower.”

“I would’ve already gone there if I had the time.”

“Of course, always in a hurry. Save the world and all that. Lucky you, there’s one in Skyrim right now.”

“Wait really?” Natalie was amazed. Her luck never usually held. “Where is he?”

“He was here a little while ago. Did some research, then left for Dragon Bridge. If you hurry, you might catch up to him.”

Natalie unexpectedly made for the stairs leading further up into the tower, “Where are you going?” Serana called after her.

“I need to grab a few things we might need, left them in my rooms here. I’ll be right back.”

Serana tried to follow but found she could not even make it up the first step. “Enchanted. Only those wearing the Arch Mage’s robes or the amulet can get through.” She turned to face the orc, who’d resumed reading his book. “You’re certainly one of her stranger companions.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never seen our illustrious Arch Mage around such an… interesting person.”

“And what is so interesting about me?” Serana found this orc somewhat annoying.

“Well, your vampirism for starters is quite impressive. Not like the mongrels usually seen around Skyrim. You have a certain elegance about you.” Serana was taken aback, how could he tell so fast, he’d barely looked at her, “And as for what you’re carrying… an Elder Scroll is a rather powerful artifact, downright dangerous in the wrong hands.” He finally looked up, steepling his fingers together. “Unless of course I’m wrong.”

The vampire strode closer, golden eyes boring into Urag’s. She searched for some sign of the fear that would normally accompany her glare, but found none. “And what happens if I am being and doing what you say?”

“Nothing. Simply makes for an interesting chronicle in the Dragonborn’s legendary life. I’ve defended this collection from many adversaries. I do not believe you to be one of them, so I will do nothing. I’ve learned to trust Natalie’s judgement. She’s rarely wrong.”

“How did you know?”

“I’ve seen many things in my time as librarian here. Little escapes my sight. There have been mages who were convinced they could steal from my Arcanaeum. They were taught a valuable lesson. You hide your true nature well. That Scroll however… not so much.”

Serana saw an opportunity, “You sure know a lot about Natalie.”

“That I do.”

“Would you mind answering a question about her then?”

“Depends on what you ask. I’d imagine she’d rather keep much of her past a secret.”

“Why would Natalie think the College doesn’t like her as Arch Mage? The gatekeeper was awed at just her presence. It doesn’t add up.”

Urag’s expression darkened. “Not sure how much she’d want me to tell you.”

“You can tell the story Urag.” Natalie’s sudden interjection made both Serana and Urag jump. “It won’t hurt for her to know, and it might explain some things I can’t.”

The elder orc nodded, “There’s a simple explanation. Many years ago, the College was attacked by Natalie’s enemies. Not because she was part of the College, or because she was Arch Mage. It was for what she is. The Dragonborn.”

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 11:10pm, 15 th of Rain’s Hand, 4E 224**

**College of Winterhold**

 

Natalie sat alone in the Arcanaeum. The College was silent, every other mage had retired hours ago. Her gauntlet had left deep gouges where she’d been tapping the table for hours, staring at the same page of a single book. The rest of the table was covered in tomes on healing, and Daedric artefacts and their associated curses. The Arcanaeum’s only copy of a book on the etymology of the Dragon language sat open in front of her. Even her advanced knowledge of how the Dragon language worked brought her no closer to the answer she sought.

Her head hit the desk with a groan, playing with the gauntlet under the desk. Weeks of study had brought her no closer. Perhaps sleeping would clear her head. She had begun to rise when the building rumbled softly. The sound was quickly followed by frantic footsteps, barrelling into the Arcanaeum. “Arch Mage! Arch Mage where are you?”

Natalie followed the noise to an alarmed apprentice, nearly collapsed from exhaustion. “What is it?”

His fearful eyes met hers, “There are people attacking, they’ve nearly crossed the bridge. They’re trying to bring down the gate.”

Natalie sprinted down the stairs, bursting into the courtyard. Sure enough, the apprentice had been right. A large group of people were marching across the bridge, mages amongst them throwing fireballs towards the College, exploding against the gate, some even making it over the walls to hit the College proper. Several of the higher-ranking members of the College were attempting to reinforce the wards on the gate, to stop the approaching horde. “The Cult…” Natalie breathed out.

The Arch Mage quickly made a calculation. Even if she herself reinforced the ward, it wouldn’t be enough. With the number of mages this group had, they’d surely break through, only to meet a weakened College. They would have to stand and fight. Breathing, Natalie focused, whispering three words before her voice boomed across the College, silent to those outside, “Mages of the College, this is the Arch Mage. We are under attack. Gather what you need and come to the courtyard. Defend this institution from the invaders.”

Natalie ran back inside, almost flying up the stairs to her chambers. She collected her weapons, but left her armour behind. There wasn’t enough time to put it on. The Arch Mages robes would have to be enough. If they weren’t, she could worry about that later.

She came back to the courtyard, every mage willing and ready to fight. They were spread out opposite the gate, priming spells and checking staves. Natalie motioned to the ones near the gate to stop what they were doing. They obeyed, joining Natalie and the others. Soon after, the gate’s wards fractured in a brilliant display of magic, the small army pouring in. They clustered in a mirrored position to the College’s members.

One of their number strode forth, Natalie recognising him instantly. She had never learned his name. They’d met several times, and he’d always found a way to escape. The leader of the Cult of the Dragonborn had finally shown his hand. Natalie swore to herself he would die here today. He lifted a greatsword, pointing it squarely at Natalie. “The day has come Dragonborn,” his face twisted in hatred, “for the world to see you as I do. For what you really are. A monster that must be put down, lest you cause even further destruction.” He ambled even closer to the battle-ready mages. “We are only here for her. If any of you wish to leave, or surrender, we will not harm you.”

Urag stepped forward, straight to Natalie’s side, “And why would we do that? The Dragonborn has saved all of our lives many times over. Why would we do any less than that for her? She saved everyone in Skyrim. She saved this College. I for one, would die for her.” Cheers broke out amongst the mages, souring the smug expression on the Cult leader’s face.

“So be it.” He marched back to his army, “TRUE BELIEVERS! KILL THE DRAGONBORN, AND ALL WHO AID HER!”

The chaos began immediately. Both sides charged, spells and arrows choking the air. Many Cult followers came straight for Natalie, all meeting the same fate.

_Parry, swing round to the other side. Punch to kill. Focus, they’re coming from all directions. Stream of fire right there. Reflect, retaliate with ice. Lightning aura now._

Natalie used every attack in her arsenal. Her blade blurred around her, parrying every blow coming her way, and retaliating with extreme prejudice. Her punches broke bones every time they landed. Magic gushed from her gauntlet, setting foes ablaze, impaling them with ice, using lightning to form a small storm around her, punishing anyone who managed to make it through her guard. None could challenge her, all who tried were struck down.

The rest of the College was not fairing as well. They had been outnumbered from the start, that weakness beginning to show. For each cult member that fell, at least one or two of the College fell as well. Natalie had no alternative. Finishing off the remaining opponents in her immediate vicinity, she leapt into the well of magicka in the centre of the courtyard. She could feel the power flowing through her veins. The runes down her arm shone with power.

She rose off the ground, her arms moving in flowing patterns around her. Flames began to encircle her, discouraging anyone from approaching. An orb was born in front of her, so brilliant with its brightness many shielded their eyes from its fiery glow. The flames completely engulfed her, obscuring her from the view of every person in the area.

The whole courtyard was ablaze with the light, as if the midday sun had fallen from the sky to land there. It continued to grow in size, moving past the edge of the magicka pool and melting the snow drifts surrounding it.

Natalie’s voice suddenly pierced the ears of all present. “MAGES! WARDS!” The elven Arch Mage focused all of her power. The flames rushed in, the orb in her hands turning white and revealing her form, now floating several metres from the ground, eyes ablaze with unrestrained fury and power. “NOW!”

Suddenly, she fell, forcing both palms hard into the ground.

Time seemed to slow down for Natalie. She could see every mage who had followed her order. They were all crouched on the ground, wards surrounding their bodies. The cult members would not be so lucky. Many were standing, staring at their impending death.

Then, it happened.

A wave of fire erupted from the point of contact between her palms and the ground. It rapidly spread throughout the courtyard, incinerating anyone unlucky enough to be caught in it unprotected. Some of the mages’ wards broke from the sheer force of the blast. They would get out with minor burns. The fiery explosion shook the very foundations of the College, but the buildings remained standing, despite the cracks that appeared in their walls.

Natalie collapsed onto her hands and knees. Her vision was almost completely blurred, the edges turning dark. The pool she was in empty, completely drained by the spell she had cast. Only stone surrounded her. Her breathing was ragged, painful in a way she hadn’t felt in years. She struggled to her feet, somehow succeeding in standing. She heard footsteps. They were getting louder and faster. She couldn’t react fast enough.

Her gaze fell down. Down to the greatsword now buried hilt deep in her gut. Blood poured from the open wound, her mouth falling open in shock before she coughed, more of her blood spattering the sword. Her adversary twisted the sword, eliciting a scream from her lips. Her hair was pulled painfully from behind, forcing her eyes to meet those of her attacker.

The leader of the Cult. He was badly burned, having only survived the blast from behind one of the courtyard’s pillars. “I’ve done it.” He began to laugh. “Even if I die, I die with the satisfaction that you’ll come with me.”

Natalie struggled to speak, her hands gripping his hand that remained on the hilt, “Why? Why do this? What did I ever do to you?”

“What did you do?! Are you seriously asking that?!” Rage twisted his face as best it could around his burns, “YOU TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME!” Blood and saliva spattered Natalie’s face. “I LOST MY FAMILY, MY HOME… EVERYTHING!”

“I… I’ve never done any of that. Why would I?”

“Oh no, it wasn’t you. It’s just all your fault.” The man’s body began to wrack with small sobs.

“My fault?” Natalie pleaded with the deranged man, “How is it my fault? Tell me, please.”

“You didn’t save us.” Natalie was even more confused. “Alduin destroyed my town, butchered everyone I’ve ever known. You didn’t stop him. You could have. You killed him. But you didn’t stop him from ruining the lives of countless people. WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP HIM SOONER?!”

Natalie lost all sympathy for the man in an instant, “Do you really believe I sat on my hands while Alduin raged across Skyrim?!” Her fury boiled over, “I DID EVERYTHING I COULD TO STOP HIM! As soon as I was able, I tracked him down and murdered the literal end of the world. You think it was easy? You think you’re the only person who lost something to him?”

The man was stunned, “I…”

“What gives you the right to kill me? Corrupt an entire group of people dedicated to helping me into doing the exact opposite.” Her eyes burned with power, consumed by golden light, “THIS ENDS NOW.” Her grip tightened, crushing the Cult leader’s hand. Bones crumbled under her might. It was his turn to scream. He tried to pry her hands away, only succeeding in convincing her to put even more force into her grip. She flattened his fingers, his scream increasing in pitch. When she finally let go, he stumbled away, eyes fixed on his mangled hand.

She stood tall, despite the blade impaled through her. “ _FUS RO DAH!_ ” Her Thu’um hit him at full force. His body came off the ground, flying before it struck a column with a sickening crunch. Almost every bone had shattered in the impact, killing him instantly. Natalie’s power faded, once more collapsing to her knees, issuing forth even more blood from her own wound.

She gripped the hilt of the blade, and pulled it slowly from herself. Her reach at its maximum, she held the blade with her gauntlet, pulling the final piece from herself. She had practically tortured this man, killed him with no hesitation. The power she had shown was like nothing the other mages had ever seen. A few of them rushed to her side, many staying put, now fearful of the leader they had admired for so long.

Natalie collapsed onto her back, barely able to breath with her grievous wound. She was almost surrounded by a pool of her own blood. She could feel it soaking into her robes. Her vision darkened even further, despite the healers now doing what they did best in an attempt to save her. She slipped into unconsciousness, the face of the College’s restoration master swimming above her.

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 10:30am, 16 th of Rain’s Hand, 4E 224**

**College of Winterhold**

 

Her vision slowly returned. Sound came soon after. All was quiet around her, the silence comforting. She sat up, only a slight pain from her midsection. Pulling her robe up, she inspected the long-jagged scar that now ran across her abdomen. Another to add to her collection. Its twin made itself known on her back, almost an exact mirror of the one on her front. She glanced around the room. She was not in the Arch Mage’s rooms, but the restoration mage’s quarters.

She had obviously made a lot of noise getting up, the head of the restoration school rushing into the room rapidly. “Arch Mage, you shouldn’t be moving around. Your body needs time to heal.”

“I’m well aware. I’ll do it in my own rooms.” The other mage made no move to stop her. She thought there was fear lurking in the healer’s eyes, the aftermath of her display of power. Natalie hobbled out of the quarters, making for the Arcanaeum.

Urag was at his usual spot behind the desk at the back, reading through another tome on some obscure subject. “Urag.”

Natalie’s call snapped the old orc’s attention to her. “Arch Mage, I was not expecting to see you up and about so soon.”

“You know me, can’t stay still.” Natalie thought about her next question. “Has something happened? Colette barely made an effort in stopping me leaving.”

“There are some who say you should leave the College.”

“Why? What for?”

“They say your presence is a danger, and your power scares them.”

Natalie was silent for a moment, her voice coming out in an almost whisper. “How many did we lose?”

“Fifty-seven, including five of our expert-level tutors. The rest apprentices.”

“And how many of those did I kill?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How many of those who died did my spell incinerate?”

Urag sighed, “Eleven. It’s not your fault Natalie. You saved everyone you could. You defeated an entire army almost single-handedly.”

Tears welled up in Natalie’s eyes, quickly wiped away. “I will retire to my rooms. Once I am fully healed, I will leave. Please have the tomes I’ve been researching packed and ready for when I leave.”

Urag almost refused before relenting, “Of course Arch Mage. I live to serve the College.”

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 4:50pm, 11 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**College of Winterhold**

 

Urag finished telling the story, “And the Dragonborn has not been back to the College in a serious capacity since.”

Serana was stunned. The display of magical power Urag had described seemed unreal. To conjure that much power should have killed Natalie. Yet, here she stood, alive and well, still essentially in her prime. “Surely they’ve forgiven her by now.”

“Most have died actually.” Natalie’s response was deadpan, just a statement of fact. “There are a few who would still remember. Mostly the elves. Unfortunately, the Mer hold grudges for far longer than anyone else. Saved all of them, and they still fear me. It’s my College, should’ve said it at the time.”

Urag cleared his throat, “Yes, well. That may be, but I believe you have a Moth Priest to find.”

“That we do. Thank you for talking with me Urag.” Serana bowed to the orc, who was slightly taken aback before returning the gesture. “I hope we meet again.”

“As do I. A vampire doing something for the greater good is hard to find.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow at Serana, who rolled her eyes in response. They left the Arcanaeum, Natalie turning to Serana, “You told him.”

“Nope. He knew somehow. Also knew about you know what.”

“Ugh, he’s always been far too observant.”

Serana grinned, “I like him.”

“He’s probably about the only person here who doesn’t fear or resent me.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you lost the College. It sounds like it meant a lot to you.”

“Thanks. It did. But its all in the past. I’m over it now. Besides, we have a Moth Priest to find.” Serana’s keen eyes could see she was not over it, but it wasn’t the time or place to try and fix an old wound. Maybe she would try later. For now, they had ground to cover, and a short time to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Finding a Priest

**Tirdas, 9:40pm, 13 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Dragon Bridge**

 

Two hooded figures rode into Dragon Bridge from the east on a single mare. Village folk coming home for the night gave them a wide berth, their hoods concealing their identity. The mare was restless, eager to start galloping, but kept on a tight rein by its riders. At the edge of the village proper, guards stopped the horse, nervous at travellers passing through this late.

“Halt! State your business here. We don’t normally allow any strangers in at night.” One guard held his torch a bit closer to the pair, attempting to illuminate their faces to no avail.

The shorter of the pair, sitting at the front of the saddle replied, “We are simply looking for a meal before we continue on our journey. Surely you have an inn which could accommodate just two more weary souls.”

“It can probably-”

The guard’s response was interrupted by another, “It can definitely fit two more… for a reasonable price of course.” He patted his nearly empty coin pouch, the first guard quickly catching onto his scheme.

The taller rider chuckled, “That is quite an interesting proposition.” She pulled back her hood, the guards almost immediately drawn to her golden eyes. “Although, I’ve got a better one. Give us those purses, and tell us all you know of any interesting people that have passed through.” Her voice was like honey, the guards falling almost immediately.

The guards swayed slightly on their feet, shaking their heads as if in a trance. They passed over their coin pouches, dreamily replying, “Some old guy and his bodyguards passed through. That’s all we know… mistress.”

“Thank you. You’ve been very helpful. Now, _sleep_.” The word shivered through the air, the guards collapsing on either side of the road, softly snoring.

Natalie sighed, “Was that really necessary? They probably would’ve let us through.”

“Was is necessary to knock that fisherman out?” Serana’s voice was filled with mirth, teasing Natalie.

“Touché” came the grumbling reply.

The path to the inn was deserted, save for a few lone guards. They paid the riders no heed, their compatriots would likely not be discovered for hours, so no alarm would be raised. Reaching the inn, still bustling with life, they dismounted, careful to tie Shadowmere away from the other horses stabled there, her ill temperament likely to cause problems.

Upon smelling the delicious scents wafting from the tavern, Natalie’s stomach made its presence known. Serana stifled a giggle, a glare from Natalie making it harder to stop, “When did you last eat? Judging by that noise, it’s been a while.”

“Days. When have I had time?” Serana smacked the back of Natalie’s head, “Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“We could’ve stopped for five minutes! We passed at least four or five villages on the way here. Let’s get you something here.”

“What’re you going to do then? We have to keep moving once we get more information.”

“Doubt they sell what I eat.”

Natalie laughed, “Not unless we want to be run out of town.”

“Let’s be quick then.”

The two women entered the inn, the sounds of the patrons muffling their entry. Natalie made her way to the bar, shouldering several people out of the way. Serana remained near the door, sitting at a table in the corner, blending into the shadows.

The bartender unfortunately knew nothing of any travellers through the town. Natalie made it back to Serana, a plate of food in her hand. The vampire sat calmly, listening to all those around her and witnessing Natalie devour almost all of her food in less than a minute.

Serana smirked at Natalie’s voracity, “Feeling better?”

Natalie smiled sheepishly, the pain she’d been feeling from her hunger dissipating. “Much. Potions stop helping about the fifth day.” Serana shook her head, making a mental note to force Natalie to eat if it came to it. The elf went on, ignoring Serana’s look, “The bartender knew nothing, we might just have to walk out of town and hope for the best.”

“He knew nothing? Really?” Serana raised an eyebrow, “I beg to differ. Have a listen.”

Natalie turned her head at just the right angle, focusing in on the bartender’s conversation. Her pointed ears twitched when they found the words drifting towards them. “…asking about the old fella who passed through. We don’t need any more of that kind of trouble. Got to get rid of her as fast as we can. That last group almost caused a riot.”

“Oh, for fuck… can’t people just go back to being helpful? They were better 50 years ago, betray their own mother for a few Septims.” Natalie stood from the table, the rest of her food forgotten. She barged through the tavern, knocking several patrons over. She vaulted the bar, a look of alarm crossing the bartender’s face before it was replaced with fear, his feet leaving the ground. Natalie slammed his head against a wooden post, elven dagger at his throat and her gauntlet wrapped in his tunic. “Now that I’ve got your attention, I’m gonna say this once more. Did. You. See. Anyone. Pass. Through?”

Her words echoed through the inn, having fallen completely silent. “P-p-p-please don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t. If, you answer the question.”

“I swear, I don’t know where they were going” -Natalie pressed the point of her dagger to the man’s throat, a bead of blood appearing at the point of contact- “All I know is they were going south!”

“How long ago?”

“Less than a day, they were here in the middle of today.” She dropped the man, dagger returned to her back. He rubbed at his neck, hand coming away slightly bloody. One of the inn’s waitresses rushed to his side, looking up into Natalie’s face. That look of fear was too familiar. Natalie had seen it far too many times, in both the eyes of friends and enemies.

Natalie returned to her table, grabbing Serana’s hand and pulling towards the door.

“HEY!” She stopped in her tracks, turning to face a large Nord, the only one brave enough to say anything, “Who the fuck do you think you are? Coming here, threatening one of us?”

“Who am I?” Natalie took a menacing step forward, the top of her head only just coming up to the Nord’s nose. “Who the fuck are you? Some random nobody who wouldn’t know a threat if it bit him on the arse.”

“What is one puny, little, fucking wood elf going to do when a whole town is against them?”

The little switch clicked.

_Knee to stomach. Jump, spin, heel into sternum. Block from the left, throw over shoulder. Palm to nose, use as shield._

Natalie reached up, grabbing the Nord’s head, and slammed her knee into his stomach. Flying into the air, she spun, landing a savage kick to his chest. The Nord came off his feet, hitting a post on the opposite side of the inn, a satisfying crack reverberating out from the timber. Her next opponent came from the left, a simple step back and block nullifying the attack. She grabbed the offending man’s arm, throwing him over her shoulder onto a table, which promptly collapsed under the force. Her blind spot was open, almost immediately taken advantage of.

Natalie was too fast, before the punch could connect, her palm had broken the would-be attacker’s nose. She grabbed his shoulders, using his weight to heave him in the path of the next punch. A quick cross from her gauntlet sent the last one to the ground, out cold. “Anyone else?! COME ON! SEE WHAT THE LITTLE ELF CAN DO!”

Natalie felt a hand grip her shoulder, almost striking before she saw who it was. “Let’s get out of here, we’ve got what we need.” Serana whispered to Natalie, the inn’s silence only broken by the groaning of Natalie’s foes and her heavy breathing. Natalie spun on her heel, marching out, almost breaking the door off its hinges. Serana attempted to give an apologetic smile before following the Dragonborn out.

The elf had already mounted Shadowmere, waiting impatiently for Serana. The second the vampire had swung herself onto the mare’s back, they were off, galloping out of the village. Guards yelled after them to slow, but Natalie was having none of it. She spurred Shadowmere even faster, thundering over the famous bridge the village was named for. The mare was only slowed once the village had disappeared from sight, Natalie finally able to calm down. She leapt off the horse, striding to a nearby stream and splashing her face.

Serana remained a few feet away, watching. “You going to tell me what that was about?”

Natalie sighed, turning to look at Serana, “Not the best way to make friends, right?”

“I’m surprised you have any. We could’ve just walked away.”

“I don’t. Not really. They’re all either dead or I can’t call them friends anymore.” Natalie stared at her reflection in the stream, “Even Urag. He’s afraid of me. I could see it. They’re all AFRAID of me. And why shouldn’t they be? Everyone has seen me do horrible things, terrifying things. I’ve killed more people than most people meet in their entire lives. And then, I go and do things like that! One wrong word and I snap.”

Serana crouched down next to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “In my experience, and let’s just say, I’ve had a lot, people will always fear what they don’t or won’t understand. And besides, you’ve got at least one friend.”

Natalie turned her head to Serana’s beaming grin and broke out laughing, falling onto her back. “Well, at least I was right about you.” Serana joined her, lying down beside her.

“Right about me how?”

“You’re a good vampire.”

It was Serana’s turn to laugh, bringing a wide smile to Natalie’s features. “Better than most, I guess. That’s not really saying much.” Serana turned her head to look at Natalie’s face, her auburn mane splayed out around her, “Come on, we’ve got a Moth Priest to find.” Serana sprung to her feet and offered her hand, Natalie gripping it, allowing herself to be pulled up. She came just a little too close to Serana, their bodies almost touching. Staring into her eyes, her breath caught. There were flecks of orange there amongst the gold. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and quickly stepped back, coughing to hide it, her auburn hair hiding her face.

“Yes, um, let’s get moving then.” She quickly made her way back to Shadowmere, pulling her hood up and brushing the hair to almost cover her face. Serana mounted up behind her, her arms once again encircling Natalie’s waist. The vampire rested her chin on Natalie’s shoulder, the elf’s breath quickening. She pulled sharply on the reins, the sudden movement causing Serana’s grip to tighten further.

An hour of riding brought them to a grisly scene. A caravan had turned over on the side of the road, its contents ransacked. The horses had been butchered, deep wounds opening their sides to the air. Every guard lay disfigured in some way, limbs torn off, abdomens opened up. It was a slaughter.

The two women dismounted, inspecting the wreckage. Natalie carefully examined the corpse of a guard. His armour was dented from an unnatural amount of force, his cause of death most likely a heavy hammer to the chest. “What do you think, bandits?”

“No. This was my father’s men. Look how they all died, no normal man could do this. And even the horses were killed.” Serana looked at the body Natalie was kneeling next to, “He died from a punch to the chest. Doubt there’d be many non-vampires who could dent steel like that.

“Here we go.” Serana stood over a dead vampire, his garb was of Harkon’s clan. “My father’s lackies did this. Shit. I’d say this was our Moth Priest’s caravan. See any sign of the old man?”

“If you mean a body, nothing. Hopefully that means he’s still alive somewhere. We can get him if we go now. The attack wasn’t that long ago. Look at the horses, the flies have barely descended, and no carrion feeders just yet.” Natalie found what she was looking for, “Ah ha! Tracks, into the hills. I’d say they went that way, needed some place to lie low and maybe break the priest.”

Natalie slapped Shadowmere’s rear, sending the horse galloping off before following the tracks into the hills. The vampires were either stupid, or assumed no one would be foolish enough to follow. It looked as though they had to drag the priest with them, deep ruts in the ground and snagged vegetation doing nothing to hide their trail. They finally found the end of the trail. A barely noticeable crack in the rock, just wide enough for one person to fit through. Natalie removed her cloak and pack, stowing them just inside the entrance.

Both women drew their weapons as they slowly paced into the cavern, Natalie only able to see in the darkness due to a lit brazier. She would not light a torch, better to get the jump on whatever awaited them further on. The light soon faded the further they went, giving time for Natalie to adjust.

They rounded the final corner, coming into a huge space. A ruined castle sat in the centre, Natalie counting at least fifteen guards patrolling the walls. An eerie blue light emanated from the castle, the top of a magic barrier just visible in the centre. “Well, there goes being undetected. Why send so many just to capture one old man?”

“He is rather important. Even if my father doesn’t have the scroll, he knows we need the man to read it. What better way to ensure we can’t thwart his plans than capturing him? Or he’s trying to lure us here.” Serana surveyed the castle, “I don’t see any way to sneak in, looks like we’re going to have to assault from the front, and hope we can reach him.”

“Hope? Please, we’ve got this. All powerful Dragonborn and vampire princess? Unbeatable combo.”

Serana cracked a small grin, “I admire the confidence. And princess? That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Your father thinks he’s a king, so that makes you a princess. Oooo, after all this, we can make you queen! I’ve never met a queen… well, not a real one.”

Serana’s deadpan stare almost faltered Natalie’s good mood, before the slightest curl of her lip sent the elf’s grin even wider. “Deal. But first, let’s focus on the task at hand.” Before Serana could consider a plan of attack, Natalie had run off towards the castle. Serana almost yelled out before stopping herself and watching as Natalie made it all the way to the walls of the castle. She was still shrouded in darkness, but if she wasn’t careful, the vampires atop the walls would sense her.

Natalie breathed slowly, a vampire was directly above her, looking out over the cavern. She silently drew an arrow and pulled the string back.

_Breath… release. Catch it as it falls._

Serana watched on in awe as Natalie fired directly up. The arrow caught the vampire under the chin, piercing his brain and killing him instantly. As he fell from the ramparts, Natalie somehow managed to catch his body before it hit the ground, lying him gently into a corner of the wall and removing the arrow. She looked back at Serana, grinned and winked. Serana knew she couldn’t see her expression, but scowled nonetheless. Natalie repeated the feat, laying the next vampire down with the other.

She motioned to Serana who, against her better judgement, made her way to Natalie. The elf pointed to her ear then above her to the ramparts, Serana turning her head to listen for whatever Natalie wanted her to hear.

She heard a voice, a familiar one. Malkus, one of her father’s weaker servants, “The more you fight me, the more you will suffer, mortal.”

A strained, muffled voice joined the vampire’s, clearly in immense pain, “I will resist you, monster! I must!”

Laughter entered their ears, “How much longer can you keep this up, Moth Priest?” -Serana’s eyes widened. Their target was here, and Malkus had nearly enthralled him- “Your mind was strong, but you’re exhausted from the struggle.”

“Must… resist…” These words came out with short breaths, he would break soon.

“Yes, I can feel your defences crumbling.” More laughter from the vampire filled their ears. “You want it to end. You want to give in to me. Now, acknowledge me as your master!”

“Yes. Master.”

“Good, good. Harkon will be pleased. We must return at once.”

Serana’s anger overcame her, and she punched the wall next to her with all of her considerable might. It cracked under the force, alerting every foe in the cavern. “God damn it all. They’ve already enthralled him.”

“What was that?! Search everywhere, we have an intruder!”

Serana deftly climbed the wall, leaping over the ramparts and quickly snapping the neck of her nearest adversary. She picked up the limp body and tossed it at the nearest vampire, sending both careening over the edge into the castle’s courtyard. “You’ve made a serious mistake Malkus.”

Malkus’ head snapped to the source of the voice. Serana was standing directly over the main gate into the castle, her vampiric powers on full display. Her eyes flamed red, a spell in each hand just waiting to be cast. “S-S-Serana. Your father said you might make an appearance after you disappeared. He also said he wanted you alive.” He paused for a moment, glancing around at his forces, before waving his hand dismissively. “Well, I suppose he does only need your blood, and… some accidents can’t be avoided. Kill her.”

Natalie joined Serana above the gate, surveying their enemies. Several vampires charged from either side of the ramparts along with their thralls. More were preparing to fight with magic from the ground. Even several Death Hounds were doing their best to get to them. Before Natalie could begin to make a plan, Serana grimaced and fell forward as her form began to shift.

Her limbs lengthened, bones cracking at unnatural angles, claws growing from every fingertip. Wings sprouted from her back with the same shower of blood Natalie had seen from Harkon. Unlike Harkon, Serana did not lose her hair, it instead grew longer down her back, framing the base of her wings. Serana’s skin turned a sickly grey, every single tooth growing into a large fang. Her clothing, the Elder Scroll included, seemed to disappear into nothingness, replaced by a basic harness, leaving little to the imagination. Natalie considered transforming herself, but now was not the time for that revelation.

Instead, she notched an arrow and began firing at their enemies. Fighting from atop the wall proved to be an advantage. If she could not hit them with an arrow, her enemies could be quickly thrown off the side of the ramparts. The fall would not kill them, but would still give Natalie time to prepare for their return.

_Turn blade to the side, strike with bow. Keep pushing off the edge. Duck, use their attack against them. Too many. Lightning, both sides. Throw dagger, block with gauntlet, retaliate. Cast ward, charge, keep casting, stab through his heart._

Natalie kept fighting, almost overwhelmed before she channelled lightning in both directions on the wall, quickly despatching several vampires and thralls alike. She kept using her magic, runes flaring with every use. For her part, Serana emit a bloodcurdling roar, taking flight and immediately charged for the courtyard and Malkus. The vampires she fought put up a good fight, even managed to get several small wounds on her torso with their swords. They all died the same way, begging for mercy of which Serana would give none.

Natalie slaughtered her last foe, deftly decapitating the thrall with a practiced swing of her sword. Collecting all of her weapons and arrows, she made her way down to Serana, now with only Malkus left to kill. Before Malkus could put up much of a fight Serana had rushed him, easily lifting him into the air by his throat. She squeezed a little bit tighter and was rewarded with the satisfying snap of bones shattering within his neck. Dropping the corpse to the floor, she collapsed, her body changing once more back to her normal state. She was left panting on the ground, suddenly very aware of the wounds she’d sustained. She’d never been very good at keeping track of those while in her transformed state.

Her elven companion was at her side almost instantly, hands already glowing with restoration magic. Serana had no time to complain, her wounds started closing, flesh mending with that familiar tingling sensation. Natalie swayed on her feet, almost falling before catching herself and shaking her head.

“Never was very good at healing. Probably why I’ve got so many scars.” Natalie chuckled to herself, finally able to take stock of their surroundings.

“You didn’t need to do that, I could’ve managed.”

The elf smiled, “Beat you to it.” She walked off towards the eerie blue light, Serana following shortly after.

They found the source. Four pillars thrust out of the ground glowing with magical energy. A blue dome of magicka enveloped them, and in the middle, an old man, kneeling in the dirt.

“Looks like we found our Moth Priest. Any idea how to get through this?” Natalie experimentally rapped her left hand on the barrier, the only response a slight ripple away from the point of impact.

“A significant amount of magic would probably do it. Problem is, it would kill the priest.” If the priest could hear Serana, he made no sign of it, he remained completely motionless except for the rise and fall of his chest. Serana stalked around the edge of the dome, searching for any indication of its source. “Ah ha!” she came across a small pedestal, the magic connecting it to the barrier palpable in the air. She ran her hand over it, a small circular depression at the top the only marking.

Natalie raised an eyebrow as Serana jogged past her, quickly returning with a stone sphere. “What’s that?”

“The key. Malkus had it. Should deactivate the barrier. Or make it explode. Just have to try and hope for the best.” Serana’s grin unsettled Natalie slightly, quickly casting a ward should the vampire’s prediction come true. Luckily for the two women, the dome faded away without incident.

The Moth Priest groggily got to his feet, his gaze falling on Natalie. “I serve my master’s will. But my master is dead. You killed him! You must pay!” He sprinted at Natalie pulling a mace from his side. She caught the mace as it swung towards the left side of her head, grabbing the wrist of his other arm as it came to catch her in the gut.

“Serana! Why is he attacking me?!” The man had far more strength than he should’ve for a man his age, pushing Natalie back step by step.

“He’s enthralled! He won’t stop till we’re dead. Unless… punch him in the head, hard!”

“What?!” -Natalie’s words came out breathless from her exertion- “That’ll kill him!”

“It might, but it might also break Malkus’ hold. Hopefully he’s not completely enthralled yet!”

Natalie gave one final push and threw the priest’s hands back bringing her gauntlet round to hit him. Her blow struck him in the temple, the effect immediate. He tumbled to the ground, somehow retaining consciousness.

“Wait, stop!” The priest held up his hands in surrender, a small wound trickling blood down the side of his face. “I yield! That… that wasn’t me you were fighting. I could see through my eyes, but I could not control my actions. Thank you for breaking that foul vampire’s hold over me.”

Natalie held out our right hand, “Are you alright?”

The Moth priest eagerly took it, getting to his feet, “I’m quite alright, thanks to you. Dexion Evicus is my name. I’m a Moth Priest of the White Gold Tower. These vampires claimed they had some purpose in store for me, but they wouldn’t say what. Probably holding me for ransom, the fools. No one is going to pay for one old man.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You just might be the most important person in Skyrim right now.”

“Really? Well this is certainly a remarkable change of events. Here I was on a simple research mission to the College, now I’m important! Makes up for not being able to meet the Arch Mage.” Natalie coughed and shifted on her feet. “Now, why am I the most important person in Skyrim?”

“The vampires needed you for a purpose. I know what it is, because we-” Serana joined Natalie opposite Dexion, “-need you for the same purpose.”

“You do? Alright then, enough mysteries.” Dexion leant forward, rubbing his hands together.

“We need you to read an Elder Scroll.”

Dexion’s mouth fell open, “You have an Elder Scroll?! Remarkable! May I see it?”

Serana interjected, “Probably for the best you don’t read it here, it’s far too exposed. None of us would be safe.”

A warm smile sprang onto Dexion’s face, “A very good observation my dear. Do you have anywhere in mind?”

Natalie answered for them, “Do you know of a fortress near Riften, Fort Dawnguard?”

“If my knowledge of history serves me, I believe the Dawnguard were an ancient order of vampire hunters.” Dexion stroked his chin, “That would explain the vampires wanting to capture me. I know of the fort, yes.”

“That’s where we’ll be headed.”

“Is the fort occupied at the moment? Or is it just a safe place for the reading?”

“The Dawnguard has reformed, yes.” Natalie glanced at Serana, her eyes quickly darting away from the vampire’s features, “Vampires have become significantly more active of late. They’re trying to stop them. And I agreed to help them, along with my companion here.”

“Very good then, shall we be off?”

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 11:10am, 19 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Dayspring Canyon**

Dexion and the two women rode into the canyon, Natalie and Serana still mounted on Shadowmere, Dexion on a smaller brown mare they’d found for him on the trip. The old man seemed to have no trouble keeping up with the pair, despite the brisk pace they’d set in reaching their destination. The priest had no end of questions for them. Both elf and vampire were vague in their answers, unsure if they could trust this man with all the details yet. He knew nothing of Serana’s true nature, but Natalie suspected he saw more than he was letting on. Luckily it didn’t seem to bother him. It would remain to be seen whether it would be a problem in the future.

Natalie was surprised to see a checkpoint before they made it into the fortress’ true grounds. Several Dawnguard soldiers stood at attention, ready for any intruder. One kneeled on top of a makeshift watchtower, aiming a mounted crossbow at them. It was closer to a ballista, but not quite as large. Natalie thought it was quite an impressive piece of machinery, clearly Dwemer in origin. Perhaps those two experts had actually helped the Dawnguard more than Natalie thought they might.

One soldier strode forward, holding a hand out, “Halt! State your business or leave. This is the territory of the Dawnguard, no trespassing.”

Natalie dismounted, walking right up to the man, crossbow following her movements. “I think you’ll find, Isran will want to see me.”

The guard scoffed at the short elf in front of him, “What business would you have with Isran? You’re not even wearing Dawnguard gear!”

Natalie threw her hands up, “It’s only been two weeks, surely one of you recognise me.”

The man on the crossbow almost immediately stood to attention, “Dragonborn, ma’am! Go right ahead.”

“Now there’s a good boy!” She turned back to the soldier in front of him, “You heard the man, let me through.”

“Of c-c-course, sorry to bother you ma’am.”

Serana came up beside Natalie leading Shadowmere. As soon as they were out of earshot of the guards, Dexion almost exploded, “Dragonborn?! You’re the Dragonborn?! Slayer of Alduin, Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold!”

Natalie grinned at Serana, “Well when you put it like that, I do sound quite impressive.”

“The College said you hadn’t been there in years. I was dearly hoping to meet you. Look at me now, travelling by your side, and I didn’t even know!” Dexion looked as though he might have a heart attack from excitement.

“You only missed me by a bit over a day at the College. We arrived after you’d already left.”

“The important thing is, I did meet you! I have so many questions. The other Moth Priests would love to meet you as well.”

“Maybe another time, the matter at hand is rather important.”

“Of course. Another time.”

Rounding the final corner, Natalie was immediately impressed by what she saw. The Dawnguard had once again out done her expectations of them. The fortress was far more fortified than before, trenches dug at the edge of the grounds, filled with spikes. The same mounted crossbows she’d seen before dotted the ramparts, as well as several near the edge of the trenches. Off to the side, they’d built a large enclosure now filled with at least ten ice trolls, armoured to the teeth. Even the men training in the yard looked more impressive. There weren’t any more new recruits. Even if she extremely disliked Isran, at least he was capable of taking sound advice from her. They were becoming a true army. They had done months of work in only two weeks it seemed.

The trio entered the fort’s grounds, many of the men turning to look as they passed. They scowled at Serana, who in turn, completely ignored them. “Natalie!”

The Dragonborn turned to find Torbald running up to them, “Torbald!” The young Nord gripped Natalie’s forearm enthusiastically. “Everything looks good here. Looks like Isran can actually get some advice through his thick skull.”

“I wouldn’t say that too loudly. A couple of people here still think we shouldn’t have let you go.”

“They’re welcome to try stopping me leaving when I need to.”

“It’d be a sight to see, I’m sure.” Torbald’s eyes flitted to Dexion, “So, why’d you come back? I didn’t think you would.”

“It’s better if I don’t talk in the open about it. It’s better if most of you don’t know.”

“If it helps us defeat the vampires, why shouldn’t we all know?”

“Trust me on this, you don’t want to know.”

Torbald swallowed, “Okay, secrecy it is.”

“Anyway… this is finally starting to look like a real army.”

The Nord chuckled, “Some of them would say it was my doing.” Natalie cocked her head at him, “All I really did was show them what you taught me. Helped a lot actually.”

Sure enough, the more Natalie looked at the men, the more of her own fighting style she saw, albeit not as refined, but it might just serve their purpose. “It does look like it. I’m impressed you could show them as much as you have. This place might stand up to a full-scale attack now.”

“I hope we never find out.”

“Is Isran inside? He should probably hear what I’ve found.”

Torbald eyes fell to the ground, a frown on his face, “Yeah… though, with what happened when you left, I very much doubt he wishes to see you.”

“Well that’s too bad. Start a movement like this, you have to deal with people you don’t agree with.” Natalie sighed, “Don’t I know the truth of that.”

Natalie marched to the keep, silently pushing the front door open, the guards either side giving them a wide berth, casting sidelong glances at Serana. They found Isran in the main room. A scowl creased his face the moment he saw the trio.

“You’ve decided to grace us with your presence once more Dragonborn.” His gaze turned to Serana, “And I see you’re still travelling with the monster. How nice.” He made a small motion with his hand, many of the soldiers raising their crossbows to almost aim at them.

Natalie made a scowl of her own, “I missed your charming personality. Now, tell your men to lower their weapons. We need to talk.” Natalie stalked off to the upper reaches of the fortress, Serana and Dexion quickly following in her shadow. She hadn’t waited for the Dawnguard to lower their weapons. Hopefully they’d learned their lesson from the last time she was here and wouldn’t be stupid enough to try the same thing again.

Isran soon joined them, along with five soldiers. “All of you, leave us.” They began to follow Natalie’s order before Isran raised his hand.

“No. They stay. As protection from the enemy you insist on continuing to bring into our most sensitive matters.”

“They leave, or so do I. Do not test me Isran. The situation is dangerous, and the fewer people know the full extent of it, the better.”

The Redguard caved under Natalie’s intense stare, sending the guards out. “Alright, they’re gone. Now, are you going to tell me why you’ve come back, bringing an old man with you?”

The elf slowed her breathing, trying to keep herself from hitting Isran, “He is a Moth Priest.”

“You actually found one?” Isran looked at Dexion closely, “I will say, it’s impressive you found one so quickly.”

Dexion rushed forward, eagerly shaking Isran’s hand, “Dexion Evicus is my name. I must say, this is an amazing piece of architecture. I have colleagues who would love to study the fortress. Perhaps you will let us after this business is over?”

Isran blinked rapidly, unsure of what to make of the energetic priest standing in front of him, “Of course, you’d be welcome to. Only after-” his gaze once again switched to Serana, giving her as menacing glare as he could, “-these horrific monsters have been dealt with.”

Serana stared back, allowing just a small hint of her vampiric power to shine through, eyes flashing sanguine before returning to their natural gold. A sharp intake of breath was the only reaction from Isran, quickly composing himself, finding he was unable to keep watching. Natalie watched the exchange, her lips curling into a smirk.

“Dexion.” Natalie’s call got the priest’s attention, “Are you prepared to read the Elder Scroll?”

Dexion’s face lit up, “Oh, most certainly! Let’s find out what secrets the scroll can tell.” Serana retrieved the Elder Scroll form beneath her cloak, handing the priceless artifact to the priest. “Simply marvellous. This is the first time I’ve actually held one. So many in the White Gold Tower, but they were not to be read unless we were certain it was time. It is beautiful, look at all the intricate details on it! Why, it makes one wonder who made-”

Natalie interrupted the man’s ramblings, “If you would please read it Dexion, time is of the essence.”

“But of course. Now, if everyone will please be quiet, I must concentrate.” Dexion crossed to the opposite side of the room, carefully holding the Elder Scroll aloft in reverence. He opened the scroll, and all light in the room seemed to vanish. Candles dimmed, and light from outside the room disappeared altogether. All was replaced with the brilliant gold of the Elder Scroll, shining in its magnificence. Dexion began to intone the words inscribed within, in a voice not entirely his own.

_I see a vision before me, an image of a great bow._

_I know this weapon! It is Auriel’s bow!_

_Now, a voice whispers, saying “Among the night’s children, a dread lord will rise._

_In an age of strife, when dragons return to the realm of men, darkness will mingle with light and the night and day will be as one.”_

_The voice fades and the words begin to shimmer and distort._

_But wait, there is more here!_

_The secret of the bow’s power is written elsewhere. I think there is more to the prophecy, recorded in other scrolls._

_Yes, I see them now… One contains the ancient secrets of the dragons, and the other speaks of the potency of ancient blood._

Dexion closed the scroll, blinking as light returned to the room, “My vision darkens, and I see no more. To know the complete prophecy, we must have the other two scrolls. I must rest now. The reading has made me weary.” Serana led him to a chair at the side of the room, carefully helping him to sit down. Dexion practically collapsed, barely able to support his own weight.

Natalie scratched her head, puzzling over the prophecy, “Two more scrolls huh? Great. Just fantastic.” The elf ran her hands over her face, rubbing at her tired eyes. “Where in Oblivion are we meant to start looking? And it sounds like it can’t just be any two Elder Scrolls, it has to be those specific ones.”

“Perhaps I can be of some small amount of help.” Natalie snapped to Dexion’s exhausted voice, still bent over and breathing heavily from his ordeal. “I could not see their exact location, but I got a glimpse of both. One is hidden not in this world, but beyond it. It is not a place I would wish anyone to travel to, but the Elder Scroll is there, so there you must go.” Natalie noticed Serana shift on her feet, a worried expression crossing her face for the briefest moment. “The other is underground, well-defended by magic. It is in a room surrounded by other priceless artefacts, of both great power and great destruction. I do not know where this room may be, but I hope it helps.” It was Natalie’s turn to look worried. She both hoped it was the place she was thinking of and also hoped it wasn’t. Their search may have halved in length if her suspicions were correct and had maybe become far more perilous.

“You’ve been a great help, thank you Dexion.” Serana placed her hand on the man’s shoulder, smiling gratefully. She nodded to Natalie before helping Dexion from the room, leaving Natalie and Isran alone.

The Redguard waited a moment before speaking, “How long do you plan on stringing that horrific freak along before you end its miserable existence?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t play dumb.” Isran growled.

“Don’t play dumb? I have no plans to kill Serana at any point. She has done nothing to me, or to Skyrim.”

“Nothing? Please!” He scoffed at Natalie, “Its kind can’t avoid bringing about destruction and misery wherever they go.”

“You really are blind, you know that? So consumed by your hatred you’re incapable of seeing anything beyond it!” Natalie marched up to Isran, poking him in the chest with a plated finger. “Serana has done nothing but sacrifice and help since I woke her up. She’s fighting her own fucking father, and you have the AUDACITY to ask when I’m going to kill her?” Natalie’s clenched right hand wreathed itself in lightning, bringing it dangerously close to Isran’s face. “And if anyone in this fortress lays a finger on her… I will personally EXTERMINATE every last living thing in this place. Do I make myself clear?”

Isran’s expression was determined, but his eyes and the sweat rolling down his forehead gave him away. “Crystal.”

The elf shouldered Isran out of the way and quickly exited the room. She strode through the halls of Fort Dawnguard, soldiers jumping out of the way of her furious gait. “Serana.” The vampire turned from where she was helping Dexion to lay down in the Dawnguard’s barracks. “We need to leave. Now.”

Recognising the look in Natalie’s eyes, Serana took the Elder Scroll from beside Dexion, once again hiding it beneath her cloak and followed her out of the fortress. Natalie didn’t even wait till they were out of the main training yard to call for Shadowmere. Her piercing whistle drew the great beast to her, nearly trampling Dawnguard soldiers as she sped through the camp. The two women swung themselves into the saddle swiftly galloping through the fortifications.

Torbald heard the mare coming. “Natalie! Wait!” he yelled out to no avail. He tried to chase after them, but the steed did not slow and he barely made it twenty steps before they were gone from his sight. What had happened? Why was she in such a hurry to leave? She’d barely been back at the fort for an hour, and now she was running off again. He considered going to their stables and riding after Natalie and Serana but assumed he’d only get yelled at for following. Torbald hoped Natalie knew what she was doing.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 1:30pm, 19 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Outside Dayspring Canyon**

 

Natalie spurred Shadowmere ever faster, the entrance to the canyon passing in a blur. Her only goal was to get as far from the fortress as she could. If she didn’t, she would likely turn around, murder Isran and fight her way out of the place. She wouldn’t let Serana die for the sole reason of being something she couldn’t control. Natalie had far too much experience on that front to see it happen to someone else.

“Natalie.” Serana’s voice passed the pointed ears unheard. “Natalie!” Still the elf made no sign of having heard her. Serana loosened her grip from Natalie’s waist, ripping the reins from her hands and pulling Shadowmere to a sharp stop. The horse neighed at the sudden slowing, impatient to continue galloping. Both women came down from the saddle, Natalie standing still and shaking in her rage. “Why did we need to leave so suddenly? We hadn’t even been there long.”

The elf’s vibrant forest green eyes met the vampire’s vivid gold ones. Serana thought she could see small tears forming at the edge of Natalie’s eyes, “Isran asked me when I would stop leading you on,” Serana’s face creased with confusion, “And end your life.”

The vampire’s mouth fell open, “What?”

“I said I’d eradicate the Dawnguard before I’d let anyone hurt you.” Serana enveloped Natalie in her arms, the shorter woman’s arms quickly coming to wrap around Serana as well. She could feel the cool metal of Natalie’s gauntlet even through her clothing. Serana slowly stroked Natalie’s hair, carding her fingers through the soft tresses. “That man makes me so angry. He can’t see beyond his blind hatred for anything.”

Serana loosened her hold on Natalie, reaching to her face and wiping away the few tears that had fallen. “Lucky me you can see things as they truly are.”

Natalie gave a short bark of laughter, “Very lucky you.” Natalie sighed, “I need to kill something. I go anywhere near the fort right now, and that something is going to be Isran.” The elf thought for a moment. Then it clicked, “I’ve got it! I heard a rumour of a cave near Ivarstead that’s apparently filled with vampires. Maybe your father’s men. Maybe we can learn something about what they’re doing.”

“Sounds good, let’s go then.” Both women smiled at each other before reclaiming their places on Shadowmere’s saddle and galloping off to the west.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 3:15am, 21 st of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**South-West of Ivarstead**

 

The cave Natalie had heard described definitely fit the description of a vampire hideout. Blood stained the ground at the entrance, drag marks leading further in. Even a few bones lay strewn over the ground, warning any potential travellers to stay away. Natalie had been itching the entire ride to get here. Her wrath had not calmed down since leaving the fort, and Serana hoped this would be the cure she needed so they could get back to their mission.

Natalie hid her pack and cloak as she always did, drawing both the dragonbone and Daedric daggers as she prepared to enter the cave. Her hair was braided and carefully tucked into the hood on her armour, mask in place. She spun the daggers in her hands, impatient to get moving.

They crept into the cave, the typical dampness of Skyrim’s underground making the air thicker as they moved further in. Several half-eaten corpses were scattered about the path. Natalie counted at least ten before they saw their first vampire. He stood on watch, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he stared the book in his hand. He was facing slightly away from where Natalie entered, which she used to her advantage. She crept behind him, avoiding any slight deviation in the ground where she would make noise. She looked back at Serana, who gave her the slightest of nods.

_Both in the shoulders. Crush the instep. Pull one, stab into his kidney. Pull the second, slice throat. Pull the first out, into the back of the neck, rotate with as much force as possible. Wipe off on his tunic._

Natalie was a blur as she closed the distance between the vampire and her. Both daggers plunged into his shoulders, one on each side. She brought her foot down hard on his ankle, shattering it and forcing him to one knee. One dagger was removed, thrust into his abdomen from the side, a yelp her reward. The second mangled his throat, turning his yelp into a gurgle as blood filled his mouth and lungs. The first dagger now entered the back of his neck, Natalie using the leverage to turn his head until it was facing her. She wasn’t sure if the vampire saw her as he died, but she sincerely hoped he did. She needed him to.

Quicker than most would have been able to see, Natalie removed both daggers, wiping the offending liquids off them before the body had even fallen to the floor. It made the impact with a wet thud, landing in the ever-expanding pool now beneath it. Natalie picked up the book the vampire had been reading. It told her nothing of what the vampires might be doing here, a ponderous tome on the history of the Moth Priests, _Pension of the Ancestor Moth_. While not entirely related to what they needed, Natalie nevertheless strapped it to her belt, figuring it may be of use if they needed to understand what Dexion was doing in Skyrim in the first place.

“Are you sure you killed him?”

“Should stab him again, just to be safe.”

Serana paced over to Natalie and the now dead vampire, “Anything interesting in the book? Always loved a good page-turner.”

“Its about the Moth Priests. If he’s got that, these are probably your father’s men. But why are they out here? Surely not still looking for a Moth Priest?”

“You never know with my father. The prophecy has made him… single-minded in everything. He would’ve sent out as many of his underlings as he could to track down Dexion. It’s also possible these ones don’t even know we’ve already stolen him out from under them.”

The elf nodded, walking away to the waiting trail that would lead them further into the cave. Light all but vanished on the path, Natalie forced to hold onto Serana’s shoulder and rely on her superior night vision. When light finally returned to them, they found themselves on a ledge at the top of a large open hollow, moonlight streaming in from a hole in the cavern roof. A group of vampires sat in the centre, oblivious to the two women who now watched them.

Natalie drew her bow, sighting down at the furthest target.

_Breathe in, right down the shaft. Fire a little to the left._

The arrow caught him in the centre of his chest, taking him off his feet. Natalie had aimed just a little off where she normally would. The wound would not kill him, but it would take him out of the battle. The rest of her enemies turned, catching sight of the elf and Serana. “Not interrupting anything am I? How terribly rude of me, not greeting you all. Oh well, we’ll just have to forgo the niceties.” Her voiced echoed through the chamber. Natalie stowed her bow, once again drawing two daggers. “And just get right to the part where I kill you.”

_Jump, shout, throw the daggers. Draw the sword, parry, thrust forward. Punch, last dagger to the gut. Catch blade, turn, cut his arms off, slice in half._

Natalie took a running start and soared over the edge of the ledge. “ _WULD NAH KEST!_ ” While in flight, she threw the daggers at one of her opponents, landing on top of him and driving them into his chest. Her sword was drawn rapidly to catch a blow rushing at her head. She followed the parry with a quick thrust forward into the offending adversary’s chest. Her fist connected with the second last vampire’s face, her dagger disappearing to the hilt in his gut.

The final enemy’s blade swung at her left side. She caught it, driving her back from the sheer force. Natalie managed to twist the blade out of his hands, pulling it into her own. It flashed down, slicing through the vampire’s arms with ease. The look of shock at the suddenly amputated limbs quickly vanished, Natalie bringing the sword swinging up from underneath, between his legs, sheering the body in half from top to bottom. Blood sprayed everywhere at Natalie’s brutality, her breathing heavy as she dropped the sword.

Her first victim still lay struggling to breath around the arrow buried in his chest. Natalie made her way to the man, crouching and ripping the arrow out to a scream from her victim. “Why are you here? What does Harkon want?”

“I’m not telling you anything.” He rasped out. “You’ll just have to kill me.”

Natalie grabbed either side of his tunic, bringing his face up to level with her mask, “TELL ME!”

His only response was to spit blood at her. His neck snapped with an almighty crack, reverberating throughout the cavern. Natalie’s breathing shook her body as she wiped the blood away from her mask. Her wrath had only calmed slightly from the exertion. Hopefully it faded once they continued with their mission.

Serana joined her on the cavern floor, surveying the bodies Natalie had left. She did not recognise any of them. They must have been newly turned or turned during her long imprisonment underground. Their garb was her fathers though, so Natalie had at least lessened his forces in some way.

The two women’s attention was brought to the ledge, clapping ringing out from where they’d entered. “A simply amazing show! I must say Dragonborn, you are quite impressive.” Even more vampires, along with their thralls, crowded the ledge, far more than Natalie had just despatched. The lead creature grinned unsettlingly, Natalie shuddering at his voice. “I can see why Serana likes you. Although, I think it might be time for her to see you as you truly are, don’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. The Truth Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter. It took longer to write than I thought it would, and clocked in at double the previous chapter's length. I've split it into two chapters on here, but it's really meant to be one. I hope you enjoy it!

**Middas, 4:25am, 21 st of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Vampire Stronghold, South-West of Ivarstead**

 

Natalie’s laughter echoed off the cavern walls, “Not the best last words I’ve ever heard, but I suppose most don’t know when they’re facing their own death.”

The lead vampire smiled, baring his fangs, “My death? Powerful though you may be, you can’t defeat all of us. Especially not in the state I’m going to leave you in.”

“And what state is that, Orthjolf?” Serana’s interjection turned his attention.

“Ah, Serana! As beautiful as ever! Why don’t you make this easier on yourself and come with us? You won’t have to see me rip your friend limb from limb.” Orthjolf cracked his knuckles individually, bending his fingers at unnatural angles.

“That’s funny, I was thinking of asking you the same thing.” Serana conjured two ice spikes into her hands, ready to throw them at a moment’s notice.

Orthjolf’s smile disappeared, replaced with a menacing scowl, “So be it.” A small sphere of white magic appeared in his hand, both women falling into a defensive stance. With a small flick of his wrist, the sphere sped towards Natalie, going straight through both her gauntlet and her ward, to disappear into the centre of her chest. Natalie stumbled back, shaking her head.

_Somethings wrong. This feels wrong._ Natalie felt the change begin. She fumbled with her mask, ripping it off, pulling her hood down and collapsing on to her hands and knees. Her breath came in short ragged gasps. The skin down her right arm seemed to ripple, changing before Serana’s eyes. Natalie's hands groped for the clasps at the sides of her armour, fingers failing to hook through them. Giving up on the clasps, she threw her bow off herself, unstrapping her sword and all her daggers from her body. She threw her head back, a blood-curdling scream ripping from her throat. Her eyes went blank, the irises and pupils disappearing.

Her head fell back to the ground, her scream turning into a guttural growl. Armour pieces fell off her, designed in such a way to not be damaged, as her limbs expanded in both length and girth. Audible cracks rang in Serana’s ears as Natalie’s bones shifted their positions, thick auburn fur growing from all over her body. Her entire being expanded in size, more than double her previous form. Claws stretched from every digit, digging into the ground. Only one piece of armour failed to fall, her gauntlet remaining steadfast. Serana could hear Natalie’s hand bones fracture and shatter within the metal, Natalie not even paying attention to it.

Natalie’s head snapped to Serana, staring at her with blank eyes. Her growl was gone, replaced by a small sob. “ _Run… please just… run._ ” Tears streaked down the elf’s cheeks. Her face began to change, teeth growing sharp, jaw lengthening out in front of her. She slammed her head into the ground, shaking it back and forth. Natalie felt the conscious control of her body slip away from her, her vision going black as she faded away and the beast took control.

 

* * *

 

**The Hunting Grounds**

 

Natalie opened her eyes, her naked form lying on a soft bed of grass in a dense forest. She rose to her feet, surveying her surroundings. All was silent, apart from the occasional chirping of a bird. Natalie crouched down, rubbing at her temples, the pain of her transformation still fresh in her mind. The gauntlet on her hand was gone, Natalie marvelling at the smooth skin she had not seen in decades. Likewise, her body was free of all the scars and pains that had plagued her existence for as long as she could remember. Here she was, what she could have been, without the influence of her life getting in the way.

Natalie slowly turned her head at a sound, the soft, comforting padding of a wolf. Relief washed over her as she watched the magnificent beast. Its eyes watched her in turn, a gentle yellow locked onto forest green. It approached, sitting onto its haunches just close enough for the elf to reach out and ruffle her hand through the thick fur covering its neck.

_It has been a long time Natalie._ Hircine's voice sent a pleasant warmth spreading through her body. _I was starting to think you had forgotten me._

“I... Haven’t needed the power in a long time.” Natalie diverted her eyes from the wolf's, ashamed at her confession.

The wolf nudged the hand buried in its fur, _I am not angry Natalie._ Natalie turned eyes shining with tears back to the wolf’s, _You more than any other one of my children understood the power I gave. And the cost behind it._

“What… what did that vampire do to me?” Natalie’s voice broke, “I’ve never turned unless I wanted to. How did he do it?”

_Ancient magic that has not been seen in Tamriel for millennia. A spell to turn any of my children into their bestial forms, to make them lose all control, even more so than the form would normally allow._

“So, I’ve… I’ve… I’ve lost control again. Serana is going to die without me there.” Natalie broke eye contact once again, “I’m going to die. There’s too many of them. No matter how strong I am, I can’t win!” Her hand slammed into the ground, tears flooding down her cheeks, her hands rising to cover her face, “I can’t lose her. She’s the only one who isn’t afraid of me. I… I can’t lose her.”

Hircine considered the Dragonborn’s words for a moment, contemplating the repercussions his actions would have. _What… what if you had control?_

Natalie’s head rose to meet the gaze of the wolf. She had never heard Hircine, in all her dealings with the Daedric Prince, sound uncertain. “How? You’ve said to me before it’s not possible.”

_There is one, and only one way. I have not done it in centuries. And you probably won’t like it._ The wolf cocked its head at Natalie, weighing the possibilities. _I would flood your body with my power, momentarily taking control from the beast, before returning it to you._

She froze, unsure if this was a trap or actually the only way out. “You want to possess me?” Natalie measured the implications, “First, if this goes wrong, you gain control of me, and have an incredibly powerful puppet on Tamriel. Second, if the power is too much, I die. Third, if I don’t do this, I die anyway.” She sighed, seeing no alternative to Hircine’s proposal. “I guess I have to do it.”

_Know that I mean you no harm Natalie. You yet have a part to play in the coming days. I would not risk this if there was another way._

Natalie reached out, encircling the wolf’s neck with her arms and hiding her face in the fur. She drew back, kneeling before the great wolf. She put her forehead on the wolf’s, and instantaneously felt great power coursing through her mind. She felt her consciousness being drawn, away from the realm of Hircine, and back to Tamriel. The forest faded from her perceptions, the birds silent.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 4:30am, 21 st of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Vampire Stronghold, South-West of Ivarstead**

 

Serana watched as Natalie’s transformation completed itself. The humanoid wolf now lay on her hands and knees, panting heavily from the exertion. Her gauntlet still remained, making her lopsided, her right hand far larger. Natalie would have grave injuries from this, Serana was sure of it.

“YOU SEE?!” Orthjolf’s sudden yell distracted Serana from her companion. “You have been travelling with a beast! A mutt! Not worthy of your presence! Do the honourable thing, end its meaningless, torturous existence. Before it hurts you or someone you care about.”

Serana chuckled, “Funny. Natalie was asked to do the very same thing to me. Kill me, end my presence in this mortal world.” She raised an ice spike to point directly at Orthjolf. “Unfortunately for you, I will never hurt Natalie. I will do the same thing she would do for me. Exterminate all of you if you so much as touch her.”

“YOU DARE TO THREATEN ME GIRL?!” Orthjolf stared daggers down at Serana, “Your father was right, you are nothing but an insolent child, not fit to even exist in our glorious new-”

Laughter filled the cavern, cutting Orthjolf’s speech short. Deep, menacing laughter, echoing from every rock in sight. “ _And you...”_ Every being present locked their eyes onto the now completely calm form of Natalie, still staring at the ground. “ _DARE TO THREATEN ME? Dragonborn? Master of magic, bow and sword? Bane of Alduin? The most powerful Child of Hircine to have ever existed?”_ Natalie rose to her new impressive height, towering over her vampiric companion. Her eyes, now glowing yellow, pierced Orthjolf. She raised a clawed hand, pointing dangerously at her foe. “ _You will pay for this insult. You promised to rip me limb from limb. I promise to do the same to you. The difference,_ ” Natalie grinned, all of her razor-sharp teeth on full display, “ _is I follow through with my promises._ ”

Without warning, Natalie ran on all fours, leaping up to the ledge in a single bound. Her arm swung, severing straight through a thrall’s plate armour and sending him careening over the edge to thud on the cavern floor. The entire crowd turned to face her, some twenty vampires, along with at least the same number of thralls.

“ _Ooooo, this is going to be fun._ ” A thrall made the mistake of charging Natalie, who quickly showed him the error of his ways, dodging an errant swing of his sword and biting deep into his shoulder. The man’s scream fuelled Natalie, quickly silencing him with a shake of her head. She licked the blood from her teeth, grinning at the foes in front of her. “ _Are you all just going to stand there? Or are you going to give me your best shot?_ ”

The battle started in earnest, many of the vampires coming straight for Natalie, while others jumped off the cliff to face Serana on the floor. The thralls looked from one enemy to the other. They were given no instruction from their masters. They glanced from the monstrous from of a werewolf bearing down on them, to the vampire princess below them. Before they could decide, Natalie was upon them.

_Bite, claws to chest, throw him. BITE. EAT. DEVOUR._

Natalie bit straight into a thrall’s side, ripping away with a spray of blood. Her claws were a blur, taking out enemies left and right. Her now immense strength allowed her to throw thralls like ragdolls at anyone who got too close. She continued to bite anything in her reach, removing chunks of flesh and eating them with ravenous delight. The vampires attempted to combat her with magic, but she was too fast, deftly dodging almost every spell thrown at her. Her gauntlet was still effective, deflecting any magic or blow she couldn’t dodge. Her fur was soon matted with blood, dripping from her mouth and claws.

_Rip. Feed. KILL THEM ALL! SHOW THEM YOUR POWER!_

While Natalie slaughtered all those foolish enough to challenge her on top of the ledge, Serana combated all those who came for her on the floor. Most of the vampires were among the weaker of Harkon’s clan. Their wards were pathetic, easily shattered by the smallest display of magic. Bodies lay strewn about her, spears of ice impaling them to the ground, burned with lightning or flames. Three of her own kind came charging. Serana met them in the middle, forcing her hand straight through the first to burst from his back, blasting a stream of ice at the second. The third learned from his allies, dodging Serana’s magic and releasing his own. Serana used the first as a shield, his screams of pain mingling with the screams from above. Pulling her arm out, she caught the last foe’s icicle, vaulting into the air, turning sideways over the second, and threw the spear directly back at him. She had hurled it with enough force to send him soaring, directly piercing his heart and skewering him to the cave wall.

_Eat. You are hungry Natalie. Feast on the bounty this world has provided_.

By the time Serana had made it back up to the ledge, Natalie had dispatched almost every foe she had faced. The werewolf now kneeled next to several bodies, devouring them as fast as she could. Serana realised too late one thrall had survived. He stood on the edge of the cliff, eyeing down the arrow notched in his bow. “Nat-!” Serana’s warning would not be fast enough. The arrow struck Natalie in the back of her left shoulder. She stumbled forward, flinging her right arm out in support. A growl emanated from her throat. The wolf reared up, twisting to look at the man who dared injure her. She took two thundering steps forward. The growl turned to a roar. The thrall now realised his mistake. It was too late.

Natalie was on top of him in less than a second, tackling him, sending them both rocketing over the edge. Natalie used his body to cushion her fall, the snap of his back music to her ears. Her arms swung back and forth, tearing his torso into bloody ribbons, flinging gore everywhere. Natalie stopped when she began to hit dirt. She breathed heavily, now finally feeling the arrow protruding from her back. However, before she could reach back, the last enemy attacked.

Lightning struck the arrow, coursing through Natalie’s body. An excruciating howl erupted from her as she writhed under the onslaught. She only just managed to see her attacker. Orthjolf. Standing some ten metres away. One of his arms was barely functional, tattered from the shoulder down, the wolf’s claws had made short work of bone and muscle. A plethora of other wounds bled from his body, that he could even stand was a testament to a vampire’s resilience. He pumped as much power as he could into the beast. His magic finally stopped, Natalie’s fur smoking from the sheer amount of energy that had thundered through her. Her breathing had turned back to the same as her mid-transformation, ragged and pained.

Summoning the last vestiges of her fleeting stamina, she rose up, storming towards the elder vampire as fast as she could.

“I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS ANY LONGER!” Orthjolf’s hand glowed with the same white magic as before, striking Natalie out of the air, passing once more through the centre of her chest. He side-stepped just too late, Natalie’s shoulder colliding with him and sent both tumbling to the ground. Orthjolf regained his footing, standing over the spasming form of his enemy. Natalie’s transformation was reversing itself. Her body shrunk, fur receding, skin once more visible. The tattoos down her right arm and back shone briefly with golden light, fading to their usual black. Her body continued to convulse for a short time, the last piece of her reclaiming its elven features. Natalie was able to briefly raise her head before unconsciousness claimed her.

Orthjolf cackled, finally defeating the most challenging foe he had ever faced. “That’s it? I expected more. It is to be expected from a lesser race I suppose.” He raised his one remaining hand, conjuring a ball of flame that would be Natalie’s doom. Just as his arm began its descent, his chest exploded outwards.

Two spears of ice pierced his back and broke through his rib cage. He stared at them, hand coming to clutch at one, eyes widening as he attempted to look who had attacked. Serana leaned in to his ear, grasping at the ends of the spears and whispering to him, “I told you. If you touched her… I would exterminate every. Last. One.” Serana hefted Orthjolf into the air by the spikes, holding him aloft. Bringing down the spears as hard as she possible could, Orthjolf slammed and slid away from Serana and Natalie, leaving behind a bloody trail.

He raised his hand weakly in surrender, barely able to speak from the ruin the vampire princess had left of his chest, “Please… Serana… don’t do this… don’t turn against your own kind.”

“I’m not,” Serana answered coldly, “I’m turning against my father.” Summoning as much magic as she could, Serana entombed Orthjolf’s dying body in ice, twin streams concealing the body from sight. When she was done, Orthjolf was buried under a semi-sphere two metres thick.

Serana collapsed to her knees next to the unmoving body of her friend. She rolled Natalie onto her back, relieved to see she was still breathing, if only very shallowly. Serana covered her mouth in shock at the sheer amount of scarring Natalie’s body had. Every part of her had seen some form of brutal damage. Her stomach, marred with many small ones, along with the jagged mark from ribs to hip. Her legs, signs of burns and magical damage. Her right arm, small scars, almost invisible, criss-crossing between the tattoos.

None of them compared to the horrific damage to her left arm. Serana had never seen it exposed. The Daedric gauntlet and black-purple leather of Natalie’s armour had always covered it, ever since that first meeting in Dimhollow Crypt months ago. Natalie had always disappeared from sight any time she had needed to bathe or remove her armour for any reason.

The damage started from past her shoulder, extending all the way to her gauntlet, and from what Serana could see, continued all the way under it. The entirety of her limb had been burned. Only a flame of incredible intensity could have done the damage Serana saw. Natalie’s skin was barely visible. The bronze skin she could see everywhere else, even among the myriad of scars Natalie had, was practically gone. Pink and angry red burn marks covered her arm. Natalie had obviously attempted to heal it at some point, to no avail. Serana could sense extremely powerful magic radiating from the elf’s arm as well as her gauntlet. How had she never noticed it before? The intensity of this magic was nothing like she’d ever felt. Even after considering the magical feats she’d heard Natalie had performed, Serana never imagined she was capable of the power required to leave such a lasting impact on her body.

Serana cast a weak spell on her companion’s arm, afraid that anything more powerful would disrupt the magic she had felt, and leave Natalie even more injured than she already was. Natalie stirred slightly, but did not awaken. Serana released a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. She collected all of Natalie’s discarded armour and weapons, removing her cloak and gently wrapping the elf’s body in it. Serana gingerly picked Natalie up, still marvelling at how a being so young could be so astronomically powerful. She picked her way around the corpses of her kind, making for the entrance and leaving them all to rot. “Just as you all deserve.” Serana muttered to herself.

She carefully and slowly exited the cave, cradling Natalie close to herself, just as the sun began to rise. Serana felt the faint pin-pricks of pain from its rays, but dare not pull her hood up, lest she disturb Natalie from her well-deserved and much-needed rest.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 9:40pm, 21 st of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Cave, South of Ivarstead**

 

Hearing was the first sense restored to her barely conscious mind. The faintest crackling noise echoed through pointed ears. What was it? Was someone screwing up pieces of parchment? Ripping pages from a book? She could barely even move to figure out what it might be.

Why did everything hurt? She hadn’t been in this much pain for decades, not since her encounter at the College at least. The crackling grew louder.

Her sense of touch returned. She was wrapped in two layers of thick, soft fabric. She could feel it all over her body. Comfortable. Safe. A gentle warmth enveloped her entire body, mostly due to the fabric, but there was something else. Maybe she could sleep again. That would be nice. If she slept, maybe the pain would go away. The crackling grew more insistent, now an annoyance.

Smell was the next. Wafting near her was the dry scent of cut wood, further on the dampness of rain. Why couldn’t she hear any rain if she could smell it? Still the only sound was the crackling, more annoying than ever. Couldn’t it just stop? Let her sleep!

She could taste again, and found only blood. Not her own blood though. She knew what that tasted like and this was not it. This was so many mixed together, it was hard to tell one from the other. Some tasted like any blood would, slightly metallic. Others were corrupted by something. It was wrong.

Red and orange light danced in front of her vision. Her eyes were still closed, but the light persisted in its dance. She slowly cracked her eyes open, the mere act of doing so painful. She saw the source of the annoying crackling. A fire. Wait… a fire?! She rose both arms, a torrent of frost extinguishing the flames with far more power than was necessary, bathing the ground beyond in ice.

Except, her left arm did not rise with her right. It remained at her side. She was unable to even move it an inch. Completely immobile, just a dead weight attached to the side of her body. She frantically tried with all her might to move it. It wouldn’t budge. Why couldn’t she move her arm? Unless… not again. This couldn’t be happening again.

“Bad dream?” Natalie’s eyes snapped to Serana, kneeling beside her. A warm smile adorned the vampire’s face, even more beautiful than normal. Serana moved to the fire pit, wiping away the frost and relighting it with a small flowing movement of her hand, before coming back to the elf.

With her eyes flicking back and forth from the fire to Serana, Natalie swallowed past the lump in her throat, daring to ask the question burdening her mind, “Serana… why… why can’t I move my arm?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

The smile faltered just slightly, uncertainty replacing it almost imperceptibly. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.” Serana averted her eyes, “I had to paralyse it.”

“What?! Why?” Natalie could barely contain her shock. Why in all of Tamriel would her arm need to be paralysed?

“Your… transformation… when your gauntlet wouldn’t move, it continued.” Serana turned back to look Natalie in the eyes, “Your hand and forearm bones are likely completely shattered. This was the only way to make sure you didn’t do even more damage.”

Natalie hung her head, “I transformed?” She couldn’t remember anything. The last thing she did was white light striking her in the chest, then all was blank. “So, you know what I am.”

“I’ve suspected something for a while. You don’t remember what happened?”

“Nothing. I never do. Its always like this. I found out later what I’ve done.”

“But you talked. You seemed like you were in control.”

“Talked?” That wasn’t possible. She’d never talked in that state before, never any rationality to her actions. The best she could normally ever hope for was she didn’t hurt anyone she knew. “What did I say?”

Serana laughed, “You threatened all of them. Something about ‘following through with your promises’.”

Natalie stayed silent, dreading what was under the cloak covering her. Taking the plunge, she threw back the top fabric. Serana had propped her left arm on a rock lying next to her. Natalie felt nothing as she ran her other hand down her burn marks and over the cool metal. “Remove the spell.”

Serana’s eyes widened, “I can’t, the pain might make you pass out again.”

“Please, just do it. I can take it.”

The vampire carefully lay her hands over Natalie’s arm, temporarily glowing with purple light.

“HOLY AKASTOSH’S FLAMING FUCK!” The outburst from Natalie made Serana fall backwards. Tears sprang to Natalie’s eyes, which she screwed shut in an attempt to combat the agony. The vampire was quick to regain her position, paralysing Natalie’s arm once more. Natalie’s eyes flew open as she took deep uneven breaths, trying to move past the pain. “Lets… not… do… that again.”

Serana sat next to Natalie on her uninjured side, unsure of how to broach the next subject. “I need to heal you. But… when I carried you here, I noticed the magic pulsing from your arm. I’m afraid if I do just the wrong thing, it will destabilise it and maybe take your arm with it.”

“You won’t.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve lived for a very long time, and I have never come across magic that would leave even half as much of an impact. Magic this powerful is fragile. One wrong move and boom!” Serana threw her hands in the air, the smallest smirk on Natalie’s face the result.

“It’s a part of me. Has been for decades. If a healing spell could destabilise it, I would have been long dead by now.”

Serana stared at Natalie, dreading the thought of seeing any evidence that Natalie was lying. A relief to her, she found none. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I am.” The elf lay her head on Serana’s shoulder, her mane of hair tickling the vampire’s cheek, “I trust you with my life, Serana.” They remained still for several moments, the quiet crackling of the fire the only interruption.

The vampire moved to Natalie's immobile limb, placing her hands on it as gently as she could. Taking a deep breath, she drew magic out into her palms, soft golden energy. It pulsated, finding each injury and mending it. “GAH!” Natalie grit her teeth, letting out a groan as she felt her bones set back into position, reassembling themselves from the almost dust they’d become.

Serana let go of the magic, watching Natalie carefully. The elf leant forward, sweat dripping from her brow, breathing hard. The paralysation spell was lifted, Natalie experimentally flexing each finger. She found the movement satisfactory. It felt good to have both arms working again.

“You know, I think that armour is the only thing that kept your arm together, even if it was the root cause of the injury. We could take it off and check for any other signs of…” Natalie shifted her gaze downwards, her hair covering her expression. “…unless it doesn’t come off.”

The elf gave a weak smile, “Yeah… it’s kind of stuck to me.”

Serana looked at Natalie’s severe burn scars in a new light, “How did it happen?”

“When I did” Natalie gestured to her entire left arm, “…this, I was wearing a set of gauntlets. My right arm was fine. My left… its melted on. The metal didn’t melt, I did.” Natalie brought her gaze back to the vampire’s, “It was the single most painful moment of my life. And-” She took a shaky breath, “I had to keep going. Made it worse. Probably could’ve gotten it off if I’d stopped.”

“Who did this to you?”

The Dragonborn whispered the name, “Alduin.”

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 12:30pm, 6 th of Sun’s Height, 4E 206**

**Skuldafn**

Natalie rolled out of the way, just dodging the Dragon Priest Nahkriln’s attack. She notched another arrow, waiting for a break in the barrage of magic currently striking the pillar she hid behind. She’d already buried five arrows in it, but that hadn’t even slowed it down. The heat of this thing’s flames, and the cold of its ice leeched through the stone into Natalie’s back. She remained still, not daring to move a single muscle. She couldn’t fail now, not when the end was in sight.

There it was, the silence she’d been waiting for.

_Wait one more second… now! Fire, don’t miss!_

Natalie spun from her hiding place, aiming with extreme precision. She fired and… struck the shoulder of the monster. It had seen it coming, moving just in time to avoid a direct hit to its core. An unearthly roar elicited from behind the mask, taunting Natalie. She shouldered her bow, charging and drawing her sword. Her naturally athletic frame helped her make the acrobatic moves to dodge the assaults the priest dished out. Leaps into the air combined with spins while she was airborne allowed her to avoid anything coming her way.

They traded a flurry of blows, neither priest nor elf gaining the upper hand. The abandoned temple sang with the clashing of staff on sword. Natalie cartwheeled backwards, both gauntlets glowing with fire. She threw fireball after fireball, all striking the ward of her enemy. It was unable attack under the barrage Natalie was releasing. She could see it weakening, just a few more would do it.

_Keep firing, you’re almost there. Build up the power… NOW!_

The priest’s ward shattered in spectacular fashion, one fireball making it through to ignite its robes. The tattoos on both of Natalie’s arms glowing with fiery intensity even through her armour. She released a flood of flames, the stream from each hand rotating around the other as it sped towards the priest. It attempted to bring its ward back up to no avail. The whirling flames struck the priest, consuming its entire being in a blaze. Its final gasp, an ear-splitting wail, rang in Natalie’s ears.

Its staff clattered to the ground along with its mask. She would never understand why the mask was always left behind. All the Dragon Priests she’d killed, and the mask always survived, no matter how badly she’d destroyed the body of the priest itself. She turned this mask over in her hands. This one felt different from the others she’d collected. Powerful. The bits of the dragon language she could make out inscribed on the inside, told her all she needed to know. This priest had been the prime servant of Alduin. This made it the most powerful of any.

She took off the mask she was wearing, attaching it to her belt. This new mask made her feel more powerful. More ready for the foe she had to face.

The staff felt heavy, as though it was made of more than the metal it appeared to be. Natalie gave it a few spins, the balance completely off for it to be an effective weapon. She wondered how the priest had been such an efficient fighter with this. The altar was in front of her, ready to serve her needs. She drew in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The staff felt drawn to the altar, its purpose nearly fulfilled. Holding it out in front of her, she slammed the end into the ground, power pulsing from the point of impact. Natalie thrust forward, energy all the colours of the rainbow shooting from the end, meeting a point in the air, directly above the altar. Twisting the staff had the desired effect.

The portal opened and actualised into Tamriel. To Natalie, it seemed both stable and unstable, its edges jagged and fluctuating, but its centre a calm vortex of intense magic. The staff flew from her hands, stopping just short of the portal, standing completely straight on the ground.

Natalie mentally prepared herself for the battle to come. She was about to enter Sovngarde. The afterlife for so many. She wouldn’t belong there. And she had to fight the end of the world made flesh. The World Eater. Alduin. Fighting him the first time atop The Throat of the World was hard enough. But now… what power would he display in a world he could make his own? There was no telling what he would unleash on Natalie, and even whether she would be able to survive it.

“No time like the present.” Natalie took a running jump, flinging herself through the portal, and to her destiny.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, ?pm, 6 th of Sun’s Height, 4E 206**

**Sovngarde**

 

Natalie landed heavily on one knee, instantly drawing her bow. She frantically aimed around her, finding nothing.

She’d landed in a clearing, the portal behind her almost immediately collapsing in on itself. Forest surrounded her, with only a small gap between the trees providing any sense of what direction she should take. A permanent twilight lit the area, giving everything a subtle glow. She was definitely not on Tamriel anymore. Everything felt like it was watching her, judging her worthiness for being there. The sky was awash with constellations, far more than Skyrim’s ever had.

Natalie stalked through the gap and further into the realm of the dead. When she finally exited the forest, she was met with a breathtaking view of a large valley, stretched out in front of her. A thick mist permeated almost everything she could see, blocking view of the valley floor. At the far end was a golden citadel, resplendent, emitting its own light and drowning out its surroundings. With no other way but forward, Natalie marched down into the mist, bow ever at the ready to take down any adversary. It felt strange. This was not natural, even for a place filled with the souls of the dead.

After walking for barely more than five minutes, she was at the bridge near the citadel. When she spun back, she could just make out where she’d come from, many kilometres away. How had she traversed the distance so fast? It barely felt like she’d moved anywhere. The mist still clung to her like a shroud. Some sort of magical effect from it must’ve been the cause of her speed.

“ **You do not belong here.** ” A booming voice from behind Natalie drew her attention. The largest and most imposing man she had ever seen stood guard over the bridge. He held a battle-axe larger than Natalie herself, the end of the handle currently slightly buried in the ground. “ **Leave now, while you still can.** ”

“I can’t do that.” Natalie retorted, attempting to make herself appear as brave as possible.

“ **You do not belong here. Leave.** ”

Natalie cocked her head, unsure of what to make of this strange guardian, “Who are you?”

The guardian was more than willing to share, “ **I am Tsun, shield-thane to Shor. The Whalebone Bridge he bade me guard and winnow all the souls whose heroic end sent them here,** ” He waved one giant hand, indicating all around him, “ **to Shor’s lofty hall where welcomed, well-earned, awaits those I judge fit to join the fellowship of honour.** ”

“I pursue Alduin, the World-Eater.” As if on cue, a mighty roar echoed out of the mist, shaking the very ground they stood on.

Tsun shook his head, “ **A fateful errand. No few have chafed to face the Worm since first he set his soul-snare here at Sovngarde’s threshold. But Shor’s restrained our wrathful onslaught.** ” He paused, assessing Natalie, “ **Perhaps, deep-counselled, your doom he foresaw.** ”

Natalie contemplated the guardian. She had to see if the heroes beyond this point would help her. That meant getting past him. “I seek entrance to the Hall of Valour.”

The battle-axe was pulled from the ground and swung over his shoulder, marching till he stood only a few metres from Natalie. He was even more impressive this close, almost double Natalie’s height. “ **No shade are you, as usually here passes, but living. You dare the land of the dead. By what right do you request entry to this sacred hall?** ”

“By the right of my blood, and that of my deeds.” Natalie’s confidence increased, “I am Dragonborn.”

Tsun’s face exploded with a smile, “ **AH! It’s been to long since last I faced a doom-driven hero of the dragon blood!** ”

“Then may I enter?”

His face now creased with determination, “ **Living or dead, by decree of Shor, none may pass this perilous bridge ‘til I judge them worthy by the warrior’s test.** ”

Without warning, Tsun swung his axe far faster than his frame should have allowed him. Natalie bent backwards, feeling the blade whistle over her body, barely missing her. She jumped back, running to put some distance between her and her foe.

_Pull, keep moving, wait for the opportunity, slide and fire… now!_

Natalie drew back her bow while still running from Tsun. Every time she glanced back, he had gained on her. She would have to time this just right, or risk being split in half by a stray blow. Just as he swung at her once more Natalie fell backwards and released a Thu’um, “ _WULD NAH KEST!_ ”. The momentum was just enough to force her to slide under Tsun’s legs and fire one, two, three arrows into the Nordic God’s back.

Using her slide to her advantage, Natalie sprung backwards, landing on her feet with a flourish. “ **HA! A worthy opponent!** ” He was not even slightly perturbed at the wounds Natalie had inflicted. “ **Let us continue! I have not been challenged in this way before!** ”

Natalie grinned at him. Even if her purpose in this place was dire, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself. Charging both gauntlets with lightning, she rushed forward, bow forgotten on the ground.

_Charge, dodge, dodge again. Grab the handle, push through. Climb, grab both sides._

Natalie met Tsun in the middle, artfully moving her body just enough to avoid his blows. On the third dodge, she grabbed the handle of his axe, using his strength to swing herself up and climb his body. She achieved the summit, foot either side of the head. His hand reaching up to grab her, she grasped either side of his head and channelled lightning into him. He gave a silent yell, small sparks visible behind his eyes. He collapsed to his knees, sending Natalie crashing to the ground. Quickly regaining her footing, she drew her ebony shortsword, ready for the next bout.

Tsun rotated his neck, an audible popping as his joints reacted to the power that had flowed through them. “ **An interesting tactic, I must say. The Nords may have forgotten their forefathers’ respect for the Clever Craft, but your comrades throng this hall. Here in Shor’s house we honour it still. Now… let us see if your skill with bow and magic matches those with the blade.** ” The Nordic God shrunk, down to the size of a regular Nord. “ **For fairness’ sake, I have reduced my strength and size to a more manageable level for you. But know that I will not hold back any of my own considerable skill.** ”

“Can’t make it too easy, now can you?” Natalie drew her ebony dagger, matched with the sword in her right hand. She let Tsun come to her, his heavier weapon making it easier for Natalie to predict his movements. He still managed to reflect any strike Natalie attempted, her blades colliding with his wrist guards. Natalie would have to fight smarter if she wanted to win.

The elf sped up her blows, still unable to land one, but preventing Tsun from making an attempt at one of his own.

_There has to be an opening. There! Stab forward._

Natalie continued to rain down her fury on Tsun, searching for any sign of a gap in his defences. Finally, she saw one. He always put more force than necessary in blocking her with his wrists. She swung down with all her might, and as she predicted, Tsun’s arm came up to block. She twisted her hands at the last moment, blades whistling past the metal, his arm continuing its path upwards. She stepped forward, burying them both into his chest. In less than a second, she had drawn both of her other daggers, holding them either side of his throat.

“ **I yield.** ” Natalie withdrew her daggers, allowing the guardian to stand back up. Her two blades and three arrows clattered to the ground, no sign of any injury on the man in front of her. He returned to his normal size, retaking his place at the foot of the bridge. “ **You fought well. Easily one of the best I have faced. I find you worthy.** ” He stepped aside, sweeping his arm out for her to cross the bridge. “ **It is long since one of the living has entered here. May Shor’s favour follow you and your errand.** ”

Natalie collected her weapons, still breathing hard from her battle. She strode across the bridge, trying to guess what creature could have possible produced the bones it was made from. The doors to the great Hall of Valour opened in front of her, presenting her with an amazing sight. Warriors from all the ages were gathered, drinking and feasting around tables with a seemingly endless supply of anything they may have wished for.

A man in an all too familiar set of armour strode towards Natalie. She removed her mask, mouth hanging open at the sight of Ysgramor, her predecessor as Harbinger of the Companions. His voice thundered over her, “Welcome, Dragonborn! Our door has stood empty since Alduin first set his soul-snare here.”

It took her a moment to regain composure, “Soul-snare? Do you mean the mist?”

“Indeed. No soul may pass through until it is dissipated. By Shor’s command we sheathed our blades and ventured not the vale’s dark mist. But three await your word to loose their fury upon the perilous foe. Gormlaith the fearless, glad hearted in battle; Hakon the valiant, heavy-handed warrior; Felldir the Old, far-seeing and grim.”

Three warriors met Natalie in the entrance of the hall. The three that had banished Alduin when he first raged over Skyrim. Gormlaith spoke first, obviously eager to get to the fighting, “At long last! Alduin’s doom is now ours to seal – just speak the word and with high hearts we’ll hasten forth to smite the worm wherever he lurks.” She slammed her gauntlets together, smiling wide at the thought of facing their foe once more.

The elder of the three, Felldir, placed his hand onto Gormlaith’s shoulder, holding her fast, “Hold, comrade – let us counsel take before battle is blindly joined. Alduin’s mist is more than a snare – its shadowy gloom is his shield and cloak. But with four Voices joined, our valour combined, we can blast the mist and bring him to battle.”

Before Natalie could speak, the third ancient hero interjected, “Felldir speaks wisdom! The World Eater, coward that he is, fears you, Dragonborn. We must drive away his mist, shouting together and then unsheathe our blades in desperate battle with our midnight-winged foe!”

Natalie stared at the three, emboldened by their enthusiasm, but concerned at their lack of distress for the battle to come. “How are we meant to kill Alduin exactly? We don’t have an Elder Scroll this time, and even if we did, all you were able to do with it was send him forward in time. We have to end him here and now.”

Gormlaith marched forward, gripping both of Natalie’s shoulders, “Take heart sister, we did not have YOU in the last battle. With the Dragonborn on our side, we shall be victorious! Alduin shall be slain! You will take his power!” She spun away from Natalie drawing her sword and holding it up above her head. “TO BATTLE MY FRIENDS! THE FIELDS WILL ECHO WITH THE CLAMOUR OF WAR, OUR WILLS UNDAUNTED! ALDUIN WILL DIE!” The entire hall cried out, cheers from every warrior present. Maybe they could do this.

The four marched from the Halls of Valour to the music of the dead’s cheering. Natalie decided not to wear the mask, assuming the three ancients she walked with may take it as an insult if she wore something so clearly dedicated to their enemy. They reached the end of the bridge, Tsun moving aside, nodding to each in turn, “ **The eyes of Shor are upon you this day. Defeat Alduin, and destroy his soul-snare.** ”

The mist was ever-present, invading their sight in every direction but behind. It would have to be dealt with, if they had any chance of defeating the dragon. “We cannot fight the foe in this mist.” The elder of the three cried out.

“Clear Skies – combine our shouts!” Gormlaith’s boundless confidence infused Natalie, bringing a grin to her face.

“Together then!” Natalie prepared herself, concentrating on the shout she needed. “ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

The mist wavered slightly, seeming to thin out slightly. “ ** _VEN MUL_** ** _RIIK!_** ” It suddenly returned, even thicker than before. Alduin’s shout bellowed out from somewhere within the mist. Natalie felt her very bones vibrate from the enormous power he had exerted to maintain this mist.

“AGAIN!” the female warrior cried.

“We can shatter his power if we Shout together!” Felldir yelled out.

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

The Shouts combined in the air, forming a wave of power, striking the mist with everything they had. Faster and further than before, the mist shrank back. But once more, “ ** _VEN MUL RIIK!_** ”, Alduin spread the mist, disheartening the heroes arrayed before him.

“Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?” Hakon was wavering in the fight.

Gormlaith was again the source of their renewed struggle, “Stand fast! His strength is failing! Once more, and his might will be broken!”

“I can feel his power crumbling – do not pause for breath!” Felldir summoned the Voice again, hopefully for the last time needed to clear the mist.

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

“ _LOH VAH KOOR!_ ”

The third of their combined shouts finally had the desired effect. The mist raced back, completely disappearing from Sovngarde. Its disappearance revealed their foe. Midnight black wings stretched out to his sides, his massive size truly intimidating. Despite their distance, Natalie could feel the eyes. Somehow even darker than the rest of his body. They bore into Natalie’s forest green ones, challenging her to fight to the death.

She had to face The World Eater.

Alduin.

Sovngarde’s landscape swept out before them. Rocky outcrops littered it, Natalie’s keen eyesight spying souls of the dead cowering away from Alduin’s fury. They would need to defeat the dragon if these poor people had any hope of peace in their afterlife.

All three of Natalie’s companions marched ahead of her, drawing their weapons in preparation for the fight to come.

“Stand together and we shall defeat him!” Felldir drew his heavy sword.

“No escape this time, foul worm.” Gormlaith slammed her sword into the shield she carried.

“Stand fast! The fell worm’s death is ours at last, the light returns!” Hakon raised his battle-axe above his head, taunting Alduin to attack.

If dragons could roll their eyes, Natalie was fairly certain that was what Alduin was doing. “ ** _NUST WO NI QILAAN FEN KOS DUUAN_** ” Alduin’s words hummed through the air. Natalie could feel the meaning from deep within her, _Those who do not bow will be devoured._ “ **You are persistent Dovahkiin. _Pruzeh ol aar._ A fine slave you would have made.” **He finally seemed to notice the three marching for him. “ **I see you have brought these foolish three to face me once more. I have killed them once. I will gladly do so again.** ” Alduin roared, Sovngarde reacting and lighting the sky with his wrath. He took flight, mighty wings beating up a gust for a great distance around him.

Natalie pulled her bow out, reaching for an arrow from her quiver. The four beings arrayed against the end of the world, charged to their destiny, letting loose their own roars to match Alduin’s.

Alduin did as he always had, summoning meteors to crash down from the heavens, separating his foes from one another. They had all faced him before, easily dodging the projectiles. Natalie launched her own, her arrows rapidly filling the air. Each one found their mark, piercing Alduin’s flesh or wings.

His blood dripped onto the earth below his form, exterminating any life they touched. Plants withered at the contact, souls unlucky enough to be under him, screaming as they were obliterated from existence. Felldir surprised Natalie. He flung bolt after bolt of lightning at the dragon, forcing the great beast to land. Gormlaith and Hakon were on him in an instant, swinging their weapons into anything they could reach.

Alduin cried out, **_“PAHLOK JOORRE! HIN KAH FEN KOS BONAAR!_** ” _Arrogant mortals! Your pride will be humbled!_

He swung his wings, barely missing his three ancient foes. They continued the onslaught, inflicting more and more damage on the World Eater. Natalie kept firing her arrows, though he payed no attention to the injuries she inflicted, completely focused on the three.

Alduin finally had success. He struck Hakon with his vast wing, taking the Nord from his feet and flinging him away. Hakon’s body hit a nearby rock with a sickening crunch. “NO!” came the cry of both his companions. Immediately, he disappeared into brilliant white light, flooding into Alduin’s form. The dragon fought with renewed vigour, his foes retreating away from him.

“YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT MONSTER!” Gormlaith’s cry of anguish only served to please Alduin, watching his now three foes carefully.

“ **You will all be consumed. You are nothing before me. _Zu’u Alduin. Zok sahrot do naan ko Lein_** ” _I am Alduin. Most mighty of any in the World._

“YOU ARE STRONG. BUT YOU ARE NOT INVINCIBLE!” Gormlaith bellowed out, the two remaining ancient heroes facing Alduin once more.

Gormlaith fought faster and harder than before. All of Alduin’s attacks were nothing before her, dodging teeth, wings and flames alike. She managed to get close enough to clash her shield with the dragon’s massive jaw. The blow sent him reeling, stumbling back. Natalie had heard several teeth break in the impact, a testament to Gormlaith’s enormous strength. Using his momentary confusion, she managed to mount his head, preparing to stab down into the most vulnerable part of Alduin.

But it was not meant to be. The great dragon had predicted the move. He snapped his head up, sending Gormlaith rocketing towards the heavens. Natalie could only watch helplessly as he caught the warrior in his mighty jaws, slicing through her armour with teeth the colour of night. One crunch and she was gone down his gullet.

A sword clattered to the ground. Natalie looked over to see her last companion had dropped his weapon. The deadpan expression on his face spoke the words he could not. He had given up. His comrades were gone, and so would he soon be. This was not a battle he could win.

“Felldir! GET UP! We must keep fighting!”

He turned his head to look at the Dragonborn, whispering “It’s useless. We’ve lost. This battle was over before it started.”

Alduin’s form crashed down onto the broken kneeling warrior, ending his soul’s existence.

He turned his massive head to stare at Natalie, their gazes joining just as they had at the beginning of the war. “ **Down to just the two of us Dovahkiin. IT WAS FATED. THIS BATTLE IS DESTINY.** ”

Natalie could feel her fury bubbling up from within. She would end this monster even if it was the last thing she ever did. Her bow fell to the ground. She would not need it for the wrath she would unleash on the being in front of her.

Her gauntlets were set alight, all her magical prowess condensing down into two intense balls of heat. The flames travelled up, giving her arms an aura of pure fire. “ _You will die here and now Alduin._ ” Her eyes rose to meet Alduin’s own. “ _THIS I SWEAR!_ ”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	7. The Truth Part 2

**Loredas, ?pm, 6 th of Sun’s Height, 4E 206**

**Sovngarde**

 

Natalie raised her hands above her head, combining the raging power into one. She thrust forward, flames exploding outwards from her outstretched hands. Alduin barely had time to flap out of the way, the tips of his wings and the ends of his feet being singed by the intense flame. The flames lit up the entirety of Sovngarde, giving everything enough illumination to appear as if midday.

The Dragonborn screamed with the effort, pulsing even more of her strength into the magic. Her tattoos flared with flames, burning holes through her armour. Her hands followed Alduin throughout the sky of Sovngarde, completely preventing him from launching any type of counter attack. No matter where he flew, Natalie followed, not caring what she hit with her power. Soon, anywhere she looked, all was ablaze, even some rocks glowed from being set upon by the flames.

Finally, she shut the flames off, falling to the ground. She whipped her head to the sky, “ _STRUN BA QO!_ ” The greatest storm Sovngarde had ever seen swept in. Lightning struck everything around the Dragonborn, cracking the ground with its potency. It even struck Alduin, forcing him into a crash landing. He let out the dragon-equivalent of a yelp as he slammed into the ground, quickly turning into a furious growl.

Alduin’s body was covered in smoke. Natalie’s flames had been too fast for him, managing to burn sections of his wings as well as his legs. There was now a wound from the lightning near the centre of his back, still crackling with the energy of her shout. “ ** _YOU DARE USE THU’UMS AGAINST ME?!_** ” His feet smashed the ground apart as he thundered towards Natalie, “ ** _I WILL CONSUME YOUR SOUL! YOU FACE THE WRATH OF A GOD!_** ”

Natalie ran as fast as her feet would carry her away from the approaching dragon. She flung spells behind her, slowing his progress while she thought of what she could possibly do to kill this beast. “ _WULD NAH KEST!_ ” She broke Alduin’s line of sight with a shout and kept moving. She dove into a rocky outcrop, hearing Alduin bound past her hiding place.

She kept as still as possible, trying to slow her breathing and plan her next move. Her bow was not an option, lying far away where she’d dropped it. She couldn’t get close enough to use any of her blades. Hit and run magic would be unlikely to work, and she didn’t think she’d be able to summon enough magic in one strike to eradicate the dragon from existence. That left one option. Thu’ums would have to be enough to weaken him for a final blow.

She scaled the boulder behind her, only to find Alduin staring at her. He’d found her and leapt up, preparing to crush her under his colossal body. Before she could think, the Voice came to her, with even more power than she’d experienced before.

“ _YOL TOOR SHUL!_ ”

“ ** _YOL TOOR SHUL!_** ”

Alduin’s draconic reflexes saved him, the two Thu’ums meeting in mid-air. At the point of their meeting, an explosion of raw energy formed a disc of flame, radiating out. He didn’t need to even flap his wings, the force of Natalie’s Thu’um colliding with his own enough to keep him afloat.

Natalie’s control waned. She couldn’t keep up with Alduin’s stamina for the dragon tongue. The moment before her Thu’um would have completely shut off, she conjured a ward in front of her with both hands. She realised too late her mistake.

One hand was further forward than the other. Her left hand. It was in front of the shield she’d made. Time slowed down. She could only look on in horror as Alduin’s Thu’um collided with her gauntlet, instantly heating it up to blistering temperatures. The flames spread up her arm, searing all the armour and the underlying skin away from her. The pain was unlike anything she’d ever felt. Her mind went totally blank, all except for this agony. The eardrum-shattering scream she made echoed all over Sovngarde. Every single being would be able hear it. Her vision blurred and then completely left her, all she could see was white and the gauntlet, glowing, burned into her mind’s eye.

Her arm fell uselessly to her side, her body collapsing to one knee. Somehow, she’d managed to keep up the ward with one hand, holding off the most powerful dragon to have ever existed. Not entirely of her own accord, the Voice built up one final time, thrumming from her feet all the way to her throat. Before she could even think of what shout to use, someone did it for her.

“ ** _JOOR_** ”

“ ** _ZAH_** ”

“ ** _FRUL_** ”

This Thu’um pierced straight through to Alduin, pushing aside his like it was nothing. The instant it collided with the black behemoth, Sovngarde quaked with its power. Alduin was thrown all the way across the valley, to crash into its wall. He plummeted to the ground, a muffled shriek of pain all that Natalie could hear.

Natalie slid off the boulder, throwing off the gauntlet on her right hand. Her left still glowed, and nothing she did would lessen the heat. She just managed to get two fingers under the gauntlet, a small stream of frost magic all she could do without causing further damage. The metal didn’t stop its insistent radiance. She could feel it burning her even further, feel it melting her flesh. Pulling it off would likely result in her losing her hand entirely. Someone had to be able to fix this. Someone…

Natalie’s vision wavered again, but this time, not from the pain. Something was pulling her consciousness away from her body. She struggled against the tide, but the pull was too strong, her body slumping down against the boulder, the entirety of it going limp.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, ?pm, 6 th of Sun’s Height, 4E 206**

**?**

 

The elf’s eyes fluttered open. At least she thought they did. All she saw was darkness, in every direction. Even the ground she was standing on was invisible. Somehow, she was still fully illuminated, able to see every detail of her own body. The pain in her hand was gone, but the glow wasn’t. The gauntlet still burned away at her. She was finally able to see the full extent of the damage.

The metal was fused to her skin, immovable. Burns extended all the way past her shoulder, still fresh. Her arm was a complete ruin. The burns an angry mass of red, pink and black. Some points even had bone showing through. Natalie stared at it, at a loss for what to do. She didn’t even know where she was, let alone how to get back to Sovngarde.

A giggle reverberated in the empty space. An annoying familiar giggle. Natalie spun, the purple and orange garbed man’s amusement plain on his face. “YOU!” Natalie sprinted at him, leaping and intending to punch him in the face. “YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

A simple raise of his hand froze her in the air. “Now, now, Dragonborn. It is not wise to strike your betters.”

She struggled against the force holding her, unable to move any part of her, her face twisted into a sneer, “I’LL KILL YOU! YOU SAID THEY WOULD PROTECT ME!”

The amusement completely drained from the man. “Threaten me like that again, mortal, and I'll rip out your intestines, and choke you with them before turning the better part of your body into cheese.” Natalie fell to the ground, landing hard on her stomach. His laughter started once more as Natalie coughed on the ground, groaning from the impact, “And, for the record, I said nothing of them protecting you specifically. That’s what makes it fun!”

She pointed a gauntleted finger accusingly at the man. “Then what the fuck were they meant to do?! You said they would ‘shield me from fire’! LOOK AT MY ARM! IT’S A FUCKING MESS!”

“HAHA! After all your experience with me, Natalie, surely you realise it's never that simple. What I said, was THEY would be shielded from fire. I didn’t say they would shield YOU from it.” Sheogorath grinned at her, one of the more unsettling grins she’d ever seen coming from him.

“Stop torturing her, brother.” Natalie’s eyes followed the voice to a far more pleasant sight. Nocturnal strode from the darkness, a kind smile adorning her face. “Hello, my sweet.”

“What? How are you here?” Natalie looked between the two Daedric Lords, “Where am I?”

“An interesting question, with a complicated answer.” Hircine appeared next, the form of a great wolf sitting down next to Nocturnal.

“The easiest way to explain it, is we are in between our realms of Oblivion, but also within your mind.” Meridia stood by Nocturnal’s other side, her stunning radiance almost blinding Natalie.

“And what interesting thoughts you have, Dragonborn.” Sanguine wearing his ever-present smirk, materialised behind Sheogorath clapping him on the shoulder. “I see our party left an impression.”

The appearance of even more Daedric Princes only served to heighten Natalie’s confusion. “I have to get back! How did I come here?! Alduin is still in Sovngarde, I have to stop him!”

The Mistress of Night came forward, cradling Natalie’s face in both hands, “I’m sorry. You can’t.”

“What?! What do you mean I can’t? I have to! I’m the only one who can!”

“Not in the state you are now. You have been maimed Natalie. You can’t defeat the World Eater.” Natalie collapsed from the Princess’ hold, “…Not without help.”

Her head snapped up, finding the five Daedra arrayed in front of her. “Help? THE HELP I HAD IS GONE! ALDUIN KILLED THEM WITHOUT EVEN THE TINIEST EFFORT! YOU SAID IT YOURSELVES, I’M NOT STRONG ENOUGH!”

The five spoke as one, voices melding together to wash over the elf, “ **Is this truly how easily the mighty Dragonborn gives up? Is this where you die? We did not mean the three you fought with.** ”

Sheogorath spoke first, “At some point you have helped all of us. You returned me back to my realm.”

Nocturnal’s melodic voice, almost a whisper, came to Natalie, “You are one of the greatest Nightingales to have ever lived. You have helped me more than you know.”

Hircine’s great wolf form nodded his head, “You have used the power I gave well, better than any of my children in millennia.”

Meridia’s words, awash with praise, “You expunged the filth from my shrine, cleansing it of his taint.”

Sanguine looked at the other four, trying to contain his amusement, “Well, I don’t have any thing as lofty as all that. But at least you’re fun at parties.” The Prince of Debauchery winked at Natalie.

“ **We would give you our power. Use it to slay the World Eater. Banish him from the afterlife and from this world.** ”

Natalie’s eye flitted from one face to another, unsure of this offer. “Why would you help me? What do you all gain from Alduin’s defeat?”

“ **Alduin threatens more than you know. If Nirn is to end, Oblivion will descend even further into chaos than it already is. It will destroy itself from within. We cannot allow that to happen.** ”

Nocturnal was the first to offer her power, a river of purple magic connecting with the centre of Natalie’s chest. Her eyes went as wide as they could, shocked into an almost paralysed state. It was too much. This power would destroy her body before she could use it. Before Natalie could protest, Hircine’s yellow beam collided with her. Meridia’s pure white torrent joined. Sheogorath’s twisting mass of orange and blue infused Natalie. Finally, Sanguine thrust his arm out, his own red energy merged with the others.

No matter where Natalie searched in her own being for power, she found it. She had never felt like this before. She could do anything with this. If it didn’t kill her first.

She could defeat Alduin.

She could ANNIHILATE him from existence with this. Every last trace would we wiped away.

The forest green of Natalie’s eyes disappeared. Her pupils flashed in and out of existence. She ground her teeth together, focusing on gaining control of the power raging through her veins. Roaring, she bent over at her waist, clenching her fists.

The pieces fell into place. With one last deafening bellow, she flung her head back, releasing a rush of magic from her mouth. Her eyes now shone with golden light. Every tattoo, even those that had been consumed by Alduin’s flames, pulsed with the same radiance. Her hair crackled with energy, small sparks of electricity igniting between the strands.

“ **You are ready. Now… GO, FACE YOUR DESTINY!** ”

Natalie’s consciousness immediately responded, racing back to her body.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, ?pm, 6 th of Sun’s Height, 4E 206**

**Sovngarde**

 

Her body was on its feet before her brain could even form the command. She stared at her arms, able to move both once more. Her left was still heavily damaged from the fire, but she found she could move it with no pain whatsoever. The runes down her arms and back pulsed, releasing raw magical power, charging the air around her. Her entire being felt like it would rip apart at any moment. She had to finish this quickly.

Natalie came out of her hiding place, searching for any sign of her foe. He had only just managed to pick himself up off the ground, still affected by the Dragonrend shout. How long had she been out? Only a minute or two gauging by Alduin’s condition. His eyes found hers with a murderous rage. “ ** _YOU._** ” Alduin began the long march to Natalie’s position. “ ** _HOW… DARE YOU! YOU WILL SUFFER FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME!_** ” The effects finally wearing off, he took flight circling Natalie’s position.

For her part, Natalie remained standing, calmly arming herself with her ebony shortsword. She was faster and stronger now, ready for anything Alduin could dish out. She stayed focused on her foe, watching him prepare for a run towards her. She began walking towards the approaching dragon, gradually picking up speed until she was sprinting toward him.

She soared into the air, flames pouring from her left hand, propelling her up and towards Alduin.

“ ** _YOU TRULY ARE A FOOL! FO KRAH DIIN!_** ” On pure instinct, Natalie’s left hand let go of the flames, coming forward and producing a ward, completely nullifying Alduin’s shout of frost. She climbed straight over his huge frame, narrowly missing his gnashing teeth.

The elf twisted in the air, aiming herself for his exposed back. “ _TIID KLO UL!_ ” The world slowed and eventually froze around Natalie, suspending her in the air far above Alduin. She breathed in slowly, focusing her power down through her sword. Breathing out, “ _WULD NAH KEST!_ ” Natalie rocketed down, her blade biting deep into Alduin and using her momentum to carve a ruinous path across his back.

The shout she’d used to slow time finally wore off, Alduin’s sudden scream at his newfound injury caused him to plummet from the sky. He still had the presence of mind to spin, throwing Natalie off and sending her crashing to the ground.

Natalie rose, no injury from her fall and retrieved her sword, ready to attack once more.

Alduin picked himself up, devouring any souls he’d happened to land near. Some of his injuries knit themselves back together, fuelling his every growing fury at this mortal who dared injure him in the first place. He stared at Natalie through new eyes. He knew what she’d done. Who’s help she had obtained. Her power was too great for a mortal to have wielded naturally. The light streaming from her eyes was an all too familiar strength.

He began to laugh, “ ** _So… you have the power of the Daedra? You think that’s enough? TO DEFEAT ME?! THIS IS MY REALM! THEY HAVE NO POWER HERE!_** ”

She met Alduin’s gaze without a shred of fear, “Maybe not… but I do.”

Natalie charged, rapidly closing the distance between her and the dragon. His head swung to maul her, but she slid under, vaulting back onto her feet. She forced her sword between the scales on his neck, continuing her charge, and sliced a long wound behind her, spilling his blood to stain the ground. Removing her blade, she leapt away from him, before running straight back in and slamming her left fist into his side. The force of the blow threw Alduin clear of Natalie. She had both heard and felt the satisfying crack of his bones under her hand.

A barrage of magic released from her hands. Balls of fire, spears of ice and bolts of lightning struck his struggling form, preventing him from rising. “I DON’T HAVE THE POWER?! IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK?! I’LL SHOW YOU POWER! I’LL SHOW YOU THE TRUE MIGHT OF A GOD!”

“ ** _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_** ” The shout hit Alduin, his form still able to rise.

“ ** _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_** ” The second compelled him to collapse, but he was still able to stand.

“ ** _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_** ” The third had the desired result. Alduin finally crumpled and lost the ability to rise, his injuries combined with the shout’s effects too much for him. He roared in frustration, his body refusing to cooperate with his commands. All the while, Natalie continued her bombardment, wounding him even further.

She ceased firing, observing the smoking ruin she’d left of the dragon’s body. She needed all her power for one final blast. This had to kill him. It had to end this battle once and for all.

Her arms locked out to her sides, small orbs of magic forming in the centre of her palms. Natalie poured every last ounce of power she had into them, including everything the Daedric Lords had given her. She levitated off the ground, the orbs growing in size and strength. Fire, frost and lightning combined into one singular form, lighting up the surrounding landscape.

Soon, the orbs had far outgrown Natalie, and still continued their growth, energy still pouring into them. They finished, both more than four times the size of Natalie herself.

The elf realised this wouldn’t be enough. If she threw them now, Alduin would be even more gravely injured than he already was, but he wouldn’t be dead. Natalie would be left completely spent, and Tamriel would be doomed to perish along with her.

She reached out with her mind, searching for any sign of the Daedra who could help her.

“ **I NEED MORE POWER! YOU SAID YOU’D HELP ME DEFEAT HIM! DO IT! END HIM!** ”

Natalie’s ears twitched at a sound. A tearing. She desperately scanned around, searching for the source. She found it. A small rip had formed in the air, writhing energies on the other side. There was another tear. Then one more. Again, and again the air ripped open above Sovngarde, exposing Oblivion’s energies to the afterlife. Tendrils of magic whipped out, connecting to the orbs Natalie had formed, flooding them with even more magical power. They did not grow in size, but Natalie could feel their strength multiply, the energies changing the orbs, their edges shifting constantly.

They became dangerously unstable, so many different magical signatures thrashing within. Natalie raised her hands, merging the orbs into a single mass, preparing to strike the final blow.

“ **ALDUIN!** ” Her voice slivered through the air, the World Eater just able to raise his head and glare at Natalie. “ **YOU CALL ME WEAK! YOU CALL ME A FOOL! CALL ME FOR WHAT I AM!** ” Natalie paused, making sure her message sank in.

“ **I AM YOUR DEATH.** ” She hurled the orb with everything she had. Natalie fell, gasping for breath from her magical exertion.

“ ** _NO! DOVAHKIIN!_** ” His protests soon feel silent as the raging orb of magic consumed and removed him from sight. The orb remained still for a moment, the swirling energies beautiful in their own way. Without warning, they detonated, throwing Natalie on her back and flattening anything in Alduin’s direct surroundings.

The smoke cleared, revealing a crater with a smouldering dragon, barely clinging to life. Natalie watched the eye facing her, as the last vestiges of his soul left. The skin cracked everywhere, orange energy spilling out. His death was unlike any of the others Natalie had seen. There was no great streaming of his soul into Natalie. His body slowly disappeared, including his skeleton, shattering into pieces and blowing away with the wind.

Natalie turned from view, the last echoes of magical power leaving her body. Her eyes returned to their normal colour, the runes etched into her body transforming back to their usual black. Her hair fell flat over her shoulders once more. Pain came rushing back to her arm, but somehow not as severe as before. She could no longer move it.

Then, a whisper. Natalie froze. Three words came from Alduin’s rapidly decaying body, crashing into Natalie’s very soul. “ ** _laas unahzaal oblaan._** ”

Something was wrong with her. Her body contorted as she fell to the ground, panting as her soul warped under whatever Alduin had done to her. A choked gasp escaped her throat, veins bulging out of her forehead from his Thu’um. She writhed on the ground for several minutes, pain flaring up all over her body. As quickly as it started, it stopped, leaving Natalie sweating and barely able to breathe, flat on her back.

She fought to stand, staring at the crater, the only evidence that Alduin had even been there. What had he done to her? Was this his final revenge?

Natalie could not contemplate any further, as a crowd of warriors from all over Sovngarde surrounded her. They cheered for her, ecstatic at her victory.

She herself did not feel victorious. She clutched at her mangled arm, blood still dripping from the tips of her gauntlet. Natalie was exhausted, more than she ever had been before. The battle had taken even more out of her than she thought it would. This exhaustion went deeper than just her body. She couldn’t even feel her magic. The source of her Thu’um’s power seemed to shrink away anytime she reached for it.

Tsun marched through the crowd, clutching Natalie’s bow in his giant hands. “ **This was a mighty deed! The doom of Alduin encompassed at last, and cleansed is Sovngarde of his evil snare. They will sing of this battle in Shor’s hall forever. But your fate lies elsewhere. When you have completed your count of days, I may welcome you again, with glad friendship and bid you join the blessed feasting!** ” He helped Natalie reshoulder her bow.

A cry rang out from one of the warriors present, “All hail the Dragonborn! Hail her with great praise!” Cheers erupted from the crowd once more, giving Natalie a headache. She needed to get out of here, back to the living world.

Tsun spoke from beside her, “ **When you are ready to re-join the living, just bid me so, and I will send you back.** ”

Natalie nodded, “I think that would be for the best.”

“ **Return now to Nirn, with this rich boon from Shor, my lord: a shout to bring a hero from Sovngarde in your hour of need. _Nahl… Daal… Vus!_** _”_

The shout surrounded Natalie, pulling her from Sovngarde and sending her back through the veil between the living and dead, to Tamriel.

 

* * *

 

**Turdas, 12:15am, 22 nd of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Cave, South of Ivarstead**

 

Natalie finished her tale, Serana unable to think of anything to say. She remained silent, Natalie’s head resting comfortably on her shoulder.

The more Serana learned of Natalie’s past, the more amazed she was that Natalie had even survived half of it. Most of the events she described should have killed her. She faced down the end of the world, and not only defeated it, but defeated it by harnessing the power of five Daedric Princes. In her experience, it was rare for even a single of the highest of Daedra to take an interest in a particular person, let alone five of them. She had felt the full power of Molag Bal for an instant on the day of her transformation into a vampire and that had felt like her body was going to rip itself apart. She couldn’t even comprehend what the power of five of them would feel like.

If anyone else had told her the story, Serana would have dismissed them as completely insane. As it were, she believed Natalie. She knew her well enough to know the elf wouldn’t lie about her past. She may omit certain details, but she would never lie, at least not to Serana.

The vampire finally broke the silence, “I’m amazed you’re even still alive.”

Natalie scoffed, “Just what I need to hear, ‘You should be dead’.”

Serana began to protest the twisting of her words but upon seeing Natalie’s smirk, rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant. Seriously, even one of those things would make you a legend. But all of it…” Serana trailed off, staring at Natalie. One detail of Natalie’s story troubled her. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… what did Alduin say to you as he died?”

All of the colour drained from Natalie’s face, her smile fading away, “Um… it essentially means ‘ _Life. Eternal. End_ ’.” Tears pooled at the edge of her eyes, quickly wiped away, “I guess it was his last moment of defiance against me.” She met Serana’s gaze, drawing in a shaky breath, and whispered so quietly that Serana had to strain to hear it, “He stripped me of my immortality.”

“What?” Serana was flabbergasted. She didn’t even know the elves’ immortality could be removed, let alone by three simple words.

“In short… I’m dying.” She played with the greying ends of her hair, keeping her hands busy. “I’ve made my peace with it. Took me a few decades, but yeah.” She gave Serana a smile that didn’t make it to her eyes, “I mean, I’ve done more with my life than most would. I’ve lived longer than ‘normal’ people. I’m 83 years old, maybe I can even make 100.”

“You know... you don’t have to make your peace with it.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t there some way to restore it? We could look, I'm sure there's something we could do.”

The elf was touched by Serana’s concern but shook her head, “I tried. Every avenue I could think of, every school of magic. There's nothing. Not for how he did it.”

Serana wracked her brain for a solution. There had to be a way to help Natalie. “Is there anyone who knows more about the dragons than you? Someone has to have heard of this before.”

Natalie rubbed her temples, “The last time this Thu’um was used was when he last ruled over the skies. He took down thousands of elves with it. They had hundreds of scholars try to find a solution. If they couldn’t find it, what chance do I have?”

Serana wrapped her arm around the elf’s shoulders, Natalie’s gauntlet coming up to hold her hand, “All the chance in the world.” Natalie laughed, “After all, you’ve got me now.” Serana pulled Natalie’s hand into her lap, turning it over and studying the interlocking metal plates. Daedric script ran all over it, identifying it as an artefact of Sheogorath. As Natalie had said, the enchantment was ‘Protected from fire.’ It was a cruel trick to play on her, but the Prince of Madness was known for them and Serana was not surprised in the slightest.

She felt something from the gauntlet that was definitely not of Daedric origin. A form of magic she hadn’t noticed before. It felt ancient and powerful, but at the same time soothing. She could sense it continue all the way up Natalie’s arm, ending right at the very edge of her burns.

Natalie watched Serana’s smooth hands run over her gauntlet, small lines of worry creasing her face. There were only a few other people in the entirety of Tamriel who knew of Natalie’s injury, and none of them had seen the full extent of it until Serana. She could feel Serana probing through the metal with her magic, carefully scrutinising the tendrils of energy that allowed Natalie to still move her arm, despite the extreme damage that had been done to it.

Serana held up Natalie’s hand, illuminated from behind by the dying fire. She could not see any of Natalie’s skin under the metal, even in the gaps where the plates moved. No matter which way she bent her fingers, all Serana could see was darkness or more metal. “How… how are you still able to move? From what you said, the flames caused irreversible damage to you.”

The Dragonborn lit up with this line of questioning, eager to share one of the more interesting parts of her injury. No one had ever asked her. The few who knew about it only wanted to know how it was caused, not the aftermath. “Chance, and super complicated magic.” Natalie beamed at Serana, smile stretching from ear to ear.

 

* * *

 

**Fredas, 6:50pm, 13 th of Frostfall, 4E 206**

**Winterhold**

 

Natalie dismounted from Shadowmere a short distance from the edge of town. No one here trusted her, even after everything she’d done to make their lives better. She’d forced the College to provide resources to the town on a regular basis, even offered to help them rebuild some of the structures they’d lost in the Great Collapse. Eventually Natalie had given up on helping them, choosing instead to ignore their petty insults and get on with her life.

She pulled the hood of her cloak up, hiding her face and distinctive hair. She shook herself out, the cloak coming around to completely obscure her body from view. Giving herself a slight hunch, she strode into town, doing her best to draw little attention. Most of the locals were heading for the local tavern at the opposite end of the town to where she needed to go.

A few strange looks were all the visitor got, making it to the bridge at the edge without any trouble. A lone Breton stood guard, half asleep and looking as bored as anyone in the post ever did. Natalie strode right past him, only gaining his attention when she was nearly halfway down the first section.

She coughed, startling him from his stupor. “Were you seriously sleeping at your post?”

“Hey! You can’t come in here, only members of the College are allowed to enter.” He marched towards Natalie, doing his best to look intimidating, preparing to remove her from the College’s grounds.

He stopped in his tracks immediately, fear crossing over his face when Natalie threw her hood back. “Who do you think you’re talking to?” She grabbed his tunic, pulling his face down so it was level with hers, “If I or anyone else catch you doing that again, you’ll be out of here faster than you can say ‘Banished from the College’. Do I make myself clear?” Natalie’s voice shook with her fury.

“Yes… Arch Mage” he managed to stammer out. Natalie shoved him away from her, falling to the ground as she strode away.

Natalie arrived at the College’s entrance, the gates automatically opening for her. The courtyard was bustling with activity, everyone giving the Arch Mage a wide berth. Whispers echoed around at her sudden appearance. She had been completely absent from her obligations for months, mostly due to her duty to defeat Alduin. Not all here knew her as the Dragonborn, some as the mentor with the immense knowledge of a master despite her youth, some as simply another member of the illustrious institution.

She quietly entered the library, surveying the tables strewn with tomes and students of the College. “ _Zul Mey Gut_.” The Thu’um shivered through the air, projecting Natalie’s voice to all corners of the room, “Attention all mages, please vacate the library, I will require it for the evening. Thank you.” The mages around the room lifted their heads at the words, all obeying the order of their leader. They greeted Natalie as they left, many attempting to strike up a conversation with her. They were quickly shut down and asked to leave, doing so without complaint. Urag made to leave with them, Natalie stopping him, “I need to speak with you, please stay.”

“Of course, Arch Mage.” The old orc returned to his place behind the desk, resuming his reading.

Natalie’s ears twitched at the scratching of a quill. She made her way to the deepest corner of the labyrinthine library, discovering a lone High Elf still working away. He wore the garb of the Thalmor, not exactly Natalie’s favourite type of person.

She cleared her throat, not even getting the smallest response from the other elf. “Excuse me.”

The High Elf responded in the Thalmor’s usual arrogant tone, “What?”

“I asked for all to exit the library. I require it for the evening.”

“I will leave when I am good and ready, not when some pitiful excuse for a mage asks me to.”

The Arch Mage plucked the quill out of his hand, throwing it behind her. “That’s interesting. The only pitiful mage I see here is you.”

“How dare you speak to me like that! I am a servant of the Thal-”

Natalie’s right hand slammed down onto the book in front of the elf, getting within an inch of his face, “HOW DARE I? Without me, you and your little friends would have been banished from Skyrim. Without me, you would be telling your masters why you failed so miserably against these locals. I allow the Thalmor to maintain a presence here for the sake of peace,” Natalie paused, lightly placing her hand around the High Elf’s throat, “But give me one good reason, and I will personally start a war over your insult.” She picked the man up by his throat, holding him so his toes could just touch the ground. “I am your ARCH MAGE. While you inhabit these grounds, you will do what I say, when I say it.” She dropped the man, sprawling him out on the ground. She bent over, once more holding her face close to his. “Clear?”

“But-”

“CLEAR?!”

The words seemed to be difficult for him to form, “Yes… Arch Mage.”

“Good.” Natalie walked away, looking over her shoulder at the Thalmor mage picking himself off the ground, “Now, be a good boy, and get the fuck out.” He quickly scurried out, almost tripping over chairs in his path.

Urag kept a straight face right up until the moment the mage was gone, a boisterous laugh bursting from his lips as Natalie rounded the corner into his space. “I’ve been waiting for someone to say something to him. Would’ve punched him myself.” Urag noticed the grimace on Natalie’s face, “Is everything alright Arch-”

Natalie took a few steps forward, but fell, her right hand shooting out to just catch her before she collided with the ground. That was when Urag noticed the small droplets of blood on the ground, and that she could barely stand. He rushed forward, supporting almost all of her weight and helping her to sit in a chair.

The elf threw her cloak back, revealing her gauntlet and part of her left arm. Blood still dripped from the sharp points of the digits, running in small streams down her charred flesh. She lifted it with her right, the gauntlet making a loud crashing sound as it landed on the table. Urag’s shock was short lived, immediately standing and moving to leave, “I’ll get the heale-”

“No!” Natalie just managed to breath out the word. “Healing potion. In my bag.”

Urag rooted through the pack Natalie had dropped, handing her the bottle filled with thick red liquid. It disappeared down Natalie’s throat, sighing as she placed the bottle on the table. Her breathing slowed as the potion took effect, burns healing slightly, but not nearly as much as Urag had thought it would.

“What happened to you Natalie?”

“What do you think happened?! Alduin happened!” She grimaced as her arm moved the wrong way. She looked at Urag, regretting her choice of words, “Sorry. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

Urag looked closely at her wounds, observing their rather unique signature, “Hmph, an acceptable reason for being snippy.” Natalie was a fairly skilled healer, he wondered why she hadn’t healed this damage herself. Harder to heal yourself of course, but he would’ve thought Natalie could do it.

“I can see your mind working, Urag.” He raised his eyes to Natalie's, “I can’t heal them. I... I can barely use magic at all actually. Can’t even move my arm.”

“So, you came to me to see if there’s a book here that might help you.”

Natalie nodded, always impressed at the old orc's intuition.

“There are many tomes here on restoration. Even ones specifically on burns. But these aren’t natural burns Natalie. If this was done by Alduin, I doubt any of the remedies you may be able to find in the pages will help.”

She swallowed, the answer she'd been dreading spilling from Urag's lips. “I’d... I'd still like to see them. Maybe one can give me a clue.”

“Of course.” Urag rose from the chair he'd pulled up, taking two steps before freezing.

“Urag?” No response. Natalie painfully stood from her own seat, tapping the orc on the shoulder. Still nothing. She came to the front of the librarian, finding his face completely paralysed, no movement whatsoever. Natalie couldn’t even hear his breathing. In fact, she couldn’t hear anything. All of the sounds from the ever-busy College had disappeared, replaced by... nothing.

The sounds of footsteps spun Natalie around. A High Elf stood in front of her. In yellow and red mage’s robes. A member of the Psijic Order.

“Quaranir?”

“It has been some time Natalie.”

Natalie looked back at Urag’s frozen form and realised time had been paused, to allow her conversation to happen. “What are you doing here?”

“I came for you of course. Urag was right, no book in this repository will help you.”

“I’m doomed to have a useless, burned shell of an arm for all eternity, am I?”

“Not if I can help it.” Quaranir approached, holding out his hand for Natalie’s. “May I?” Natalie nodded, Quaranir lightly lifting her gauntlet and turning it over in his hands. He studied the burns all up and down her arm, prodding here and there much to her displeasure. “You’ve really done a number on yourself, haven’t you?”

“Wasn’t exactly my choice.” Natalie grumbled.

The mage let go of Natalie’s arm, satisfied with his assessment, “I can confidently say that no healing magic will ever be able to fix your arm completely”, Natalie began to protest, “But... I believe we can at least restore full functionality.”

The Arch Mage's eyes widened, “You can?! That would be amazing.”

“There is a spell that should work. Mind you, it is incredibly complicated magic. If one mistake is made, you may lose the arm completely.”

Natalie swallowed hard, weighing up Quaranir’s offer. “It’s basically a dead weight right now… what have I to lose?”

“Very well, let us begin.” Quaranir waved his hand, one of the library’s tables scraping across the floor and stopping in the middle of the room. He pulled a small deep green crystal from somewhere within his robes, placing it in the dead centre of the table. It seemed to rattle on the surface, wanting to skid straight off. Quaranir spun it, green lightning firing from its surface. Soon the crystal disappeared, leaving an enchanting circle, but unlike one Natalie had ever seen.

“How did you do that?”

Quaranir chuckled, “Old Psijic secret. We needed a way to enchant objects without carrying a full apparatus around with us, so we invented this. Spin the crystal on a flat surface, instant enchanting circle.” Natalie studied the pulsing green circle, inspecting the small details in its energy. “Pull up a chair and place your arm in the centre. I will teach you the method required and the theory behind it.”

Natalie did as requested, Quaranir casting a small spell, magnetising her gauntlet to the table so she wouldn’t move it at the wrong time.

“The spell I have in mind will involve the manipulation of time, your own body, and use the gauntlet’s own enchantment as its source.”

Natalie gaped blankly at him, “You lost me at ‘manipulation of time’.”

He sighed, “Your arm is too damaged for all but the most powerful of restoration magic to be able to heal it. However, due to the cause of the injury, namely Alduin, that magic will not work on it. I can tell you’ve been guzzling healing potions by the dozen. They may work as a temporary measure to stave off any further decay, but they will never be able to complete the job, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.

“What I plan to do, is bring your arm backwards in time somewhat, to just at the point of the injury. I will then freeze its passage of time, keeping it in that state. You should regain full functionality.”

Natalie stared at Quaranir, shocked at his suggestion, “Surely you could just take it further to when I wasn’t injured?”

“Unfortunately, no. This type of magic is inherently unstable. If I did what you suggest, the fabric of reality may tear itself asunder. Your injury is a necessary part of history. You would not have spoken to the Daedric Princes and subsequently gained their power if you weren’t injured. Alduin would have then killed you without it.”

“How… how do you know about that?”

“We know a great many things Natalie. We keep tabs on important individuals such as yourself. It is not important how we know; just be glad we do.”

She sensed that was the best answer she would get, moving on from the topic, “Okay. How does this chunk of metal factor into this?”

“Daedric artefacts are naturally anchored to this world. They must be, or they would be constantly trying to return to their creators in Oblivion. Therefore, using the gauntlet’s power as the fuel, the spell will be stabilised.” Quaranir paused for a moment, a grave look crossing his face, “There is one problem with this spell.”

“There’s always a problem with everything I do apparently.”

He chose to ignore Natalie’s fatalistic comment, “If you are ever teleported somewhere within Nirn, or go through a portal to another place, the spell will shatter. You will lose all control of your arm again, and all of the pain of the injury will return. You will need to recast the enchantment.”

Natalie pondered this information, “What about going to somewhere not in Nirn? Oblivion, for example.”

“That will be fine. Going to another realm does not affect time magic in the same way as travelling within a realm.”

She nodded, satisfied with the conditions of the enchantment. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s get me my arm back.”

“Very well, hold still and watch closely.” Quaranir bent over Natalie’s arm, holding one hand just above her gauntlet. He moved his fingers in a complicated yet easy to follow pattern, each finger acting independently. Deep green sparks of lightning flowed between them, occasionally connecting with the metal. Natalie watched in amazement as her flesh healed ever so slowly, the blackened sections turning a much more healthy-looking red. Quaranir moved his hand slowly up her arm, more of her flesh reacting to the time magic. She began to gain the ability to move her hand once more, fingers twitching under the spell.

The Psijic mage brought his hand back down to the Daedric artefact, lightly placing his hand over Natalie’s palm. Bright green energy pulsed through the metal, fading away to nothingness. The enchantment circle disappeared, the deep green crystal reforming and raising Natalie’s hand up slightly.

Quaranir released the magic holding her hand to the table. She slowly brought her hand up to her face, turning it round in front of her eyes. It was almost like the injury had never happened, the only evidence that she couldn’t remove the gauntlet and the heavy scarring still present further up her arm.

Natalie jumped up, throwing her arms around Quaranir’s neck. “Thank you.”

He coughed, Natalie jumping back, “Yes, you’re welcome.” He picked up the crystal tossing it to Natalie, “Keep that on you at all times. Any enchanting circle will do, but that one is handy to have.” She tucked it into her belt, bowing to the mage. He returned the gesture, “Until we meet again, Arch Mage.”

“Goodbye Quaranir. Thank you for this.”

And with that, one of the more mysterious men in Tamriel disappeared from her sight. Sound invaded her pointed ears, time’s flow starting again. Urag took two more steps, almost running into Natalie.

“What the?” He stared at Natalie, noticing that she’d somehow teleported from her seat to in front of him and could now move both arms once more, “I thought you couldn’t move it anymore. And, how did you move so fast?”

Natalie grinned at him, holding her gauntlet up and wiggling her fingers, “Two words my friend. Psijic. Order.”

“Again?” Urag frowned, annoyed that his library would prove of no use in this particular situation. “They really need to learn to be less secretive. Maybe we could learn something from them instead of wondering what they’re up to all the time.”

The Arch Mage giggled, “I doubt they’ll change just because an old man is grumpy with them.”

“Watch who you’re talking to, Arch Mage. I could make your use of this library very difficult.”

Natalie’s laughter intensified and then faded, her expression becoming serious, “There is one more thing I came here to ask you.” Urag gave his full attention to her, “Do you know of any instances of immortality being taken away? Or a method of how it could be done?”

Urag raised an eyebrow, highly concerned by Natalie’s line of questioning, “And why would you need to know about that?”

She swallowed, trying her hardest to have her expression not betray her thoughts, “Academic curiosity.”

The orc was obviously not satisfied with the answer, but told Natalie anyway, “There are a few tomes on immortality itself. Especially that of the Mer.” He collected several tomes, placing them in Natalie’s outstretched arms, “I don’t know of any specific points in history where it has been stripped from an individual, but these would be the best place to start for information.

Natalie bowed to him, giving him a grateful smile, “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

 

* * *

 

**Turdas, 1:05am, 22 nd of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Cave, South of Ivarstead**

 

“Let me get this straight; One, your arm is stuck in a time loop. Two, you’ve met members of the Psijic Order a minimum of twice. And three, you have a crystal that can produce an enchantment circle on command?” Serana had held up her hand and counted each of these new bits of information down.

“That’s the third thing you choose? Not the fact that I threatened to start a war because someone insulted me?” Natalie smirked at Serana, amused by the annoyance that creased the vampire’s forehead.

“I’ve just come to expect something like that from you.” Natalie nudged her shoulder into Serana’s, almost knocking her off balance. “Hey!”

“Should’ve expected that.”

Both women laughed for a moment, Serana nudging Natalie back. “Time magic. I’ll say, I don’t think I would’ve thought of that one.”

“It hadn’t even crossed my mind when I went to the College.” Natalie made a chopping motion with her right hand, “Honestly, I was probably going to have to cut my arm off if I didn’t find a solution when I did. Healing potions were becoming disgusting. Still get a weird tingling when I drink them.”

Serana climbed back to her feet, stretching out her limbs. “We better get moving. Still need to find the other two Elder Scrolls.”

Natalie joined Serana near the fire, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself, “Yeah, hopefully they’re easy enough to find.”

Serana pointed out Natalie’s pack, “Sorry if your armour is a bit muddled up, couldn’t for the life of me figure out how it went together.”

“Doubt anyone but me could. Customised most of it myself. Made it specially so that if I do transform, I don’t break every piece.” She shook her head, “Made that mistake enough times to learn from it.” The elf moved slowly to her pack, suddenly very aware that she was naked under the cloak. An intense blush came to her cheeks, the tips of her ears burning.

Serana noticed Natalie’s embarrassment, quickly spinning away from her, “Oh! Sorry, I’ll let you get dressed.”

The elf dropped the cloak, trying to furnish herself with her armour as quickly as possible. Serana subtly spied over her shoulder, only just now truly noticing Natalie’s lithe physique. She truly was beautiful. Serana felt her own cheeks start to burn, quickly turning away again.

Natalie finished fastening the last buckle on her chest piece, “Ah! Feels good to be back in armour.” She rotated her body into various positions, making the final tiny adjustments to the positioning of her armour.

Serana handed Natalie’s weapons to her, impressed with the speed she had them secured to herself. “I have a feeling I know where one of the scrolls is. Or at least someone who will know. We just have to find them.”

The elf raised an eyebrow, “What luck, I might know where the other is. Hopefully we’re not thinking of the same one.”

“That’d be just our luck though.” Serana strode to the cave entrance, scanning the surroundings for any sign of a threat. “At least the rain stopped.”

Natalie joined her in the cave mouth, marvelling at the feeling of the slightly damp ground on her bare feet. “Perfect weather for travelling then.”

They called for Shadowmere, and set off to the north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	8. Becoming Something More

**Turdas, 1:40am, 22 nd of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Southern Skyrim**

 

They travelled on a barely visible dirt path, approaching the main road. Shadowmere was moving slowly, avoiding the small rocks strewn on the ground that could easily cause her injury. Natalie was impatient to get the horse to gallop, but managed to restrain herself, unless she were to make the trip take that much longer without the beast.

Natalie twisted in the saddle slightly, looking at Serana, a slight frown on her face. “You said you might know where one of the Elder Scrolls is?”

Serana was shaken from her stupor, realising she’d been staring off into space, “Yes. Well, I know who might have it, or at least know where it is. My mother, Valerica”

“Your mother?” Natalie thought about Serana’s suggestion for a moment. If Serana had been buried with one Elder Scroll, it was definitely possible her mother had another. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. When she sealed me away, she said she’d take it to a safe place, a place my father would never look.” Serana’s downcast expression returned, “The problem being, where could she possibly go Harkon would not look? He’s not afraid of anything to my knowledge. And, he’s had thousands of years to search for my mother, who’s to say he doesn’t already have it?”

“Sealed away like you? It took him this long to find where you were buried. Maybe he hasn’t yet even started the search for your mother.”

“I don’t think so. She said she wanted to stay awake in case she found a way to take him down, or if the situation resolved itself. One of us had to, and she is significantly more powerful than me. It made sense for it to be her.”

“Significantly more powerful than you?” Natalie tried to wrap her head around just that statement. “How much are we talking? You’re already one of the most powerful mages I’ve ever seen, and your vampiric abilities are amazing.”

Serana blushed ever so slightly at the compliment, hiding her face from Natalie’s view, “Her magical ability is only slightly above my own, probably somewhat less powerful than you. Her vampiric power… let’s just say she took to it better than I did.”

Natalie wanted to press Serana for further background on the subject, but decided it wasn’t the time or place. “Okay, do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

“That’s just it, I can’t think of anywhere. No where he wouldn’t look, no where he wouldn’t dare search.” Serana sighed, “And my mother left no means for me to contact her. She was convinced she’d come to wake me up when this was all over.”

Shadowmere trotted in silence, both women trying their hardest to think of a place where Serana’s mother may have hidden herself all this time. Natalie had a thought, “What if... what if she never left?”

“What do you mean?” Serana tried to puzzle out what Natalie meant.

“What if she never left the castle? Would your father look right under his nose? What better place to hide than essentially on top of him?”

“That’s...” Serana began to refute Natalie but stopped. “That's genius. Of course!” Serana hugged Natalie from behind. “My father would never even give the castle a moment’s look! He'd just assume we were outside of it.” Serana thought for a moment, “The courtyard! My mother had a garden I used to help her tend, we grew all of our potion ingredients there. Harkon couldn’t stand the place. ‘Too peaceful’ he said.”

“Surely your mother can’t have been hiding in a garden for millennia? That sounds suicidal.”

“No, but it's worth a look. Maybe she left a clue for her whereabouts. Or some sort of magic is keeping her hidden from him.”

“So, we’ve got somewhere to look. How in the hell are we going to get into the castle without being detected? I’m pretty sure Harkon promised to kill me if I showed up there again, and I doubt he’ll be particularly happy to see you either.” Serana swallowed, shaken by Natalie’s words but couldn’t deny their truth. Natalie stammered out, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s fine. You’re right, he wouldn’t be.” Serana considered their options, “I lived there for a very long time. There’s an unused inlet on the northern side of the island, the previous owners used it to ship in supplies. They built an escape tunnel that exits there. There shouldn’t be anyone that would raise an alarm.” She rested her forehead on Natalie’s shoulder.

They finally broke out onto the main road, devoid of all traffic this late at night. “We better get moving. Should be able to make the trip in a few days. Maybe that fisherman will let us borrow his boat again.”

Serana laughed hard, “I’m sure he will. I doubt he wants to be knocked out again. But it’s always an option, right?”

“Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.” Natalie’s joking attitude lifted Serana’s spirits.

“I’m not convinced. You enjoyed it last time.” Serana teased Natalie.

“You see right through me.”

Natalie jabbed her heels into Shadowmere’s sides, the mare rocketing forward at breakneck speeds. They galloped off to the west, following the road to their destination.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 2:20am, 26 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**North-Western Coast of Skyrim**

 

Shadowmere once more brought them to Skyrim’s rocky coast. A strong wind blew across the water, ruffling their cloaks out behind them. As they’d both predicted, the fisherman was nowhere to be found, not even the light of a dying fire coming from his home. Luckily, his boat was docked at the pier, ready for them to borrow. Serana had thought they should leave a note, but Natalie argued against it, wanting to see his reaction when she returned the vessel a second time.

Serana swung the boat wide of the island, avoiding the sentries they’d seen on their previous trip to Castle Volkihar. She expertly navigated into a tight channel, a dock made of dark stone coming into view. Natalie’s keen eyesight spotted several skeletons standing guard. They hadn’t seen the duo yet, and Natalie decided to take part in some target practice.

“Watch this.” Natalie winked at Serana, standing perfectly straight with feet together in the shifting boat. She drew her bow and four arrows, aiming with great precision.

_Breathe. Six targets. Four arrows. Easy. Draw breath in. Pull the string back. Release breath and fire._

The arrows thundered over the water, two of the arrows skewering skulls to the mortar. The other two took out the remaining skeletons, one of them piercing through three of their chests. Natalie had charged each of the arrows with a small amount of frost magic, ensuring the skeletons would be dead before they knew what was happening.

Their bones clattered to the dock with a deafening racket, Natalie cringing at the clamour she’d created. She looked down sheepishly at Serana, expecting to find a scowl. Instead, Serana was looking intently at the mess Natalie had made.

“How’d you do that?” Serana’s magical curiosity had taken over.

“Uh, do what?”

“Ice your arrows. I’ve held your bow and your arrows. There’s no enchantment on either.”

“Oh! That! Learned that being in the Dark Brotherhood.”

Serana pulled the boat into dock, tying it up. “The what?”

“The Dark Brotherhood?” Serana’s blank look confused Natalie to no end, “Secret guild of assassins? Pretty famous.” Natalie paused, considering the Brotherhood’s history, “Actually… you wouldn’t have heard of them. They began in the second era, so I guess you might have been asleep at the time.”

“You were an assassin?”

Natalie nodded, “Technically still am. I even killed the emperor.”

Serana’s mouth fell open, “You killed an emperor?”

The elf grinned, “Not just any emperor, THE Emperor.”

Vampire and elf stared at each other for a few moments before Serana broke the silence, “Okay, that withstanding, how did you do that with your arrows?”

“Projectionary magic. It's practiced very little. It doesn’t have much use for most mages, they don’t generally fight with weapons. But the Dark Brotherhood used it a little bit. Ensures the target is put down with whatever strike you have lined up. Handy in a pinch if you don’t have the gold or the knowhow to enchant your own weapons.”

Serana nodded, “So, you ‘project’ your magic to the head of the arrow and maintain it till it hits the target?”

“Got it in one. It works with swords as well. Far easier. You don’t have to maintain the magic from as significant a distance. Want me to show you?”

“Please.”

Natalie alighted onto the dock, handing Serana her bow and an arrow. She stood behind Serana, pulling the string back with her and moulding her body onto the vampire’s. “Reach out with your magic. Find the arrow head in space. Put the tiniest bit of magicka through.” Natalie’s breath tickled the back of Serana’s neck. “Hold it there.” A small icicle built up on the arrow, “That’s it!”

Serana released the arrow, firing it down the pier. It struck a stone pillar, exploding in a shower of ice. Luckily the arrow’s materials allowed it to remain intact. The ice rained down over Natalie and Serana, coating them in a thin layer of frost.

“I don’t think I've seen someone get the hang of it so fast.” She took the bow back, scraping the ice off. “Little bit too much power though.” She grinned at Serana.

Serana coughed, wiping her clothes down, “I’d say so yes. You must be an excellent teacher. Might use it on my dagger. Surprise a few people.”

“It’s always entertaining. The look in their eyes is pretty funny.” The elf scanned their surroundings, “I was going to ask, are you sure anyone upstairs won’t hear us? I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

“We vampires have good hearing, but not that good.” Serana strode to an iron gate at the castle’s base, “No one has used this dock in centuries. We generally get our... supplies, through the front gate.” A sharp pull opened the gate, rusty hinges screeching their complaint at the movement.

Natalie looked into the darkness, seeing absolutely nothing. “Uh, do you know where we’re going? I can’t see a thing down there.”

“Of course. Here, let me help.” She placed her hands lightly on either side of Natalie’s face. “Close your eyes.” Natalie did as asked, Serana putting a thumb over each one. Her hands glowed briefly red, the magic sinking into the elf’s eyes.

Natalie opened her eyes, blinking several times. She found she could see every detail of Serana’s face, as though they were in full midday sun. But more than that, she could see small flecks of green in the gold of her eyes. She hadn’t noticed that before. Serana’s hands lingered for a moment, cradling her face. She quickly dropped them and marched into the darkness underneath the castle. Natalie shook her head out and followed her companion into the under croft.

The darkness soon swallowed them, Natalie marvelling that she could still see. “You’ll have to show me how to do this. Would've been a useful tool. Maybe I would stub my toes less.”

Serana chuckled, “It’s fairly simple, just enhances your vision. The night vision is more of a side effect.” She held out her arm, stopping Natalie in her tracks. The vampire pointed to her ear, Natalie turning her head to pick up whatever Serana could hear. A faint wheezing echoed off the stone. Pained, struggling wheezing. Quieter panting accompanied it, a chorus of danger.

Natalie moved forward, peeking her head just around the corner. An extremely emaciated vampire stood among a few equally malnourished Death Hounds. His skin so completely drawn back over his bones, Natalie could see the sides of his eyeballs. They were bloodshot, the irises the deepest red she’d ever seen on any vampire. Natalie glanced at Serana and used two fingers to point to her eyes before pointing at her bow.

_Draw. Charge with fire. Charge with too much. Aim to the centre. Release._

Silently, she pulled back a single arrow, concentrating down to the head of it. She charged it with far too much flame magic for taking out a single target. The arrow’s head glowed strongly, small flames flickering over the surface. Natalie edged around the corner, aiming to the centre of the group. Before the vampire or any of the hounds had a chance to react, she fired.

The arrow streaked towards the group, leaving a burning path through the air. It struck the vampire in the centre of his chest. Natalie swear she could see a look of surprise on his face. Then, the arrow detonated. Natalie hid herself around the corner, an explosion of flames rushing past her and Serana. The only remains were a few charred bones, the Death Hounds being completely obliterated by the blast.

The elf waved her hand in front of her face, attempting to clear the smoke. “I may have overdone it.”

“Maybe a little.” Serana inspected the remains, “I know I said the ones up above shouldn’t be able to hear us, but they may just notice if the floor caves in.” She looked at the bones of the vampire, “I don’t know if there are any more ferals down here, but this will either bring them running, or scatter them.”

“Hopefully the latter then.”

Serana stood without a word and crept on, Natalie keeping close behind.

Eventually, moonlight at the end of a tunnel signalled an end to their subterranean adventure. Natalie’s night vision was beginning to fail, the magic wearing off. Serana carefully melted the hinges on this gate with a small but intense flame. She lifted it and set it to the side, being far more careful with the noise they made, considering their proximity to the main section of her once upon a time home.

They came outside into a large courtyard, the edges almost completely overgrown with all manner of plants. Natalie recognised several from her foraging around her home, but some were completely alien to her. She moved to touch one, Serana grabbing her hand before she could, “Touch that and you’ll break out in a rash for years. Trust me.” Natalie hurriedly withdrew her hand, carefully making her way to the centre, mindful of anything she stepped on with her bare feet. “What happened to this place? Everything’s been torn down… the whole place looks… well, dead. It’s like we’re the first to set foot here in centuries.” She pointed to a wall at the top of a set of stairs. “That used to lead into the great hall, but it looks like Harkon sealed it up. I used to walk here after evening meals. It was beautiful, once.” She met Natalie’s eyes, “It… do you know how beautiful something can be when it’s tended by a master for hundreds of years? She would’ve hated to see it like this.”

Natalie came to stand next to Serana, overlooking a large raised design set into the ground of the courtyard. Both women remained silent for a time, Natalie finally breaking it, “Impressive. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Because there isn’t anything like this. At least, not that I know of. It’s one of a kind.”

“What is it?” The design reminded Natalie of a sun dial, but it was off somehow. It didn’t look right for it to be one.

“A moon dial.” The elf’s look of confusion spurred Serana on, “The previous owners had a sun dial here, but obviously that doesn’t particularly help a group of vampires. My mother had it ripped out and… convinced an High Elven artisan to design this. It shows the phases of the moons, Masser and Secunda.”

“How does it work?” Natalie made a circuit of the moon dial, inspecting the intricate patterns inlayed into it.

Serana scratched at her head, “That’s the thing… what’s the point of a moon dial? I always wondered why she didn’t just have the whole thing ripped out. But she loved it. I don’t know. I guess it’s like having a piece of art, if you’re into that sort of thing.” Serana crouched down at one section, “Wait… something’s wrong here. The crest is missing.” She scanned the rest of the moon dial, “And so’s that one, and that one. I didn’t even know they could be removed. Maybe my mother is trying to tell us something?”

“Find the crests and get a clue?”

“Exactly. They should be obvious, even under all this mess.”

They fanned out, scouring the dense foliage at the edges for the missing crests. Natalie struggled not to step on anything, Serana trying to cover her laughter at her odd poses. Natalie scowled at her, but couldn’t keep her balance, falling onto the ground. “Ow.” She’d fallen on something hard and round. The elf reached under herself, bringing one of the missing crests out. “Ah ha! Success!” She held the crest up triumphantly, arduously picking her way back to the moon dial and setting the crest beside it. Serana returned with another, putting it beside the other.

“One more to go. Now, where is it?” They searched for a time, combing every inch of the garden. They found nothing, returning to the centre. “Nothing.”

“It’s got to be here somewhere, right?” Natalie ran her hands over her head, hoping the crest hadn't been removed from the garden and that this whole journey would have been for naught. Serana grabbed Natalie’s shoulders, turning her body and pointing at a small alcove several metres in the air. The crest rested on it, small vines growing over it. “Well, that’s going to be a problem isn’t it?” Even stretching her arms out to their max, she would barely get halfway.

“I’ve got an idea.” Serana pulled on Natalie’s hand, leading her over to the wall below the crest.

“What are y-” The vampire suddenly lifted Natalie by her hips, raising her into the air. Her body began to sway, almost losing her balance before tightening her muscles, keeping her upright. “Warn me before you do that next time.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to see that look on your face.” Natalie scowled down at a smirking Serana. She returned her attention to the crest, reaching with both arms locked out above her.

The tips of Natalie’s fingers grazed the edge of the alcove the crest was in. “Can you get me any higher?”

“Hold on.” Serana adjusted her grip on Natalie’s waist, preparing herself for the next manoeuvre. Serana dipped down slightly, pushing up and launching the elf into the air. Her vampiric strength allowed her to capture both Natalie’s feet in one hand, easily holding her aloft.

“You really like making my heart skip beats, don’t you?” Natalie now stood level with the crest, freeing it of the vines wrapped around it. She carefully dropped it into Serana’s waiting free hand, preparing to vault down. Without warning, Serana let go of her feet, sending her into a freefall.

At the last possible second, Serana moved and caught Natalie, stopping her descent. “Your surprised look is too funny to pass up.”

Natalie narrowed her eyes at Serana, regaining her footing on solid ground. “Right… now that we’re done with you nearly killing me, let’s put those moons back.”

“Oh, come on, you would’ve been fine. Maybe a few broken bones, easy fix.”

The elf raised her hand to respond, but instead took the crest and marched over to the moon dial, leaving Serana to revel in her victory.

Natalie carefully placed each crest in its home, rotating them till they locked themselves in. The third and final took some jiggling, but eventually it too snapped into place. Natalie jumped back with a fright, as the phases of the moon below her began to rotate. Ethereal light pulsed from the hollows between the rotating discs. They stopped after a few seconds, and pulsed once more.

Part of the design dropped down, forming a circular staircase leading down into impenetrable darkness. Serana strode to the start of the staircase, trying to see down into its depths. “Very clever, mother. Very clever. I’ve never been in those tunnels before, didn’t even know they existed. I bet they run right under the courtyard and into the tower ruins. Well, at least we’re getting closer. Let’s go.” Serana moved underground, leaving Natalie in the garden.

“Hooray, another possibly vampire infested tunnel.” Natalie followed her companion, the staircase closing in on itself once she was at the bottom.

Natalie lit a small flame in her hand, lighting the way. They were in a long corridor; unlit torch sconces lined the walls. It ended in another staircase, twisting its way upwards out of sight. A small lever at the top of the stairs was the only indication of anywhere they could continue. Serana pulled it, revealing a grisly sight.

A long disused kitchen greeted them, the floors and walls stained with blood. Even the ceiling had a dash of stains, Natalie wondering how anyone could have even succeeded in making them. The elf was glad that no one had been here in centuries, the smell would’ve have been almost unbearable if they had. Only bones remained of whatever had been slaughtered here, the flesh that had clung to them long since rotted away.

Serana broke their silence, “I’ve never even seen this part of the castle before. It was a ruin even by the time we moved in. I didn’t know we could even get in. Be careful. I don’t know what might be around.” Natalie drew her sword and elven dagger, assuming there wouldn’t be much use for a bow in such tight spaces. There was no way to go but up, Natalie sincerely hoping this wasn’t all for nothing.

They came to a large dining hall, full skeletons filling almost every chair. It seemed as though they’d all died while still at dinner, plates in various states of use or disuse. Natalie guessed poison, some of the bones were collapsed out of their chairs, some looking like they were crawling for the exits.

“This isn’t creepy at all.” Natalie’s voice echoed in the hall, not even the sound of a rat scurrying away in response.

“I wonder what they were all here for.”

“Vampiric hospitality? I’ve heard it’s all the rage in this part of the world.”

“Ha ha.” Serana turned away from Natalie’s grin, entering the hall proper. Reaching the halfway point of the room triggered a response from everywhere.

Every skeleton was suffused with magic, rising from their various positions on the floor and in the chairs. Gargoyles at the edge of the room came to life, showering the floor with stone as they moved their ancient joints. Every single candle in the room suddenly lit itself, preventing Natalie or Serana from hiding in any fashion. “And just when this was starting to get boring.” Natalie spun the blades in her hands, excited at the prospect of a fight.

_Leap onto the table. Run down, kick plates off, slash at any skull that’s too close. Jump, fire lightning from the end of the sword._

Natalie took a running start, vaulting on top of the table. She kicked the first few plates at just the right angle, managing to decapitate several skeletons with their sharp edges. She charged down the table, ducking and weaving out of the way of any blade near her, her own blades flashing out to massacre anything close enough. Reaching the end, she leapt onto the larger chair, catapulting herself nearly to the ceiling. She spun in the air, a beam of lightning firing from the end of her sword, striking a gargoyle in the chest, shattering the stone and sending it plummeting to the ground. She’d used her own magic plus the enchantment of the sword itself to devastating effect, taking another gargoyle out before landing on the floor.

For Serana’s part, she remained on the ground, expertly dodging skeleton’s attacks left and right. Her dagger flashed out with extreme precision, using her new-found skill of projectionary magic ensuring that the lightest tap would send the bones clattering to the ground with an explosion of lightning or frost. Clearing her surrounding area, a gargoyle landed nearby, scraping its foot on the floor in preparation to charge. Serana sheathed her dagger, holding her fists up and beckoning the construct to come at her. It swung straight for head as soon as it was close enough, but Serana was ready. She thrust out her left arm, shattering straight through the gargoyle’s own. The stony features creased in confusion at where its arm used to be, Serana using the momentary distraction to thrust her right arm straight through and out the back side of the stone monster.

Natalie joined her, the last of the skeletons and the one remaining gargoyle arrayed against them. Serana twisted her hands, radiating with dark purple, almost black, magic. The skeletons they’d dismantled reanimated themselves, standing between the two women and the final set of enemies. The newly formed undead pounced on the last gargoyle, slashing with their bony fingers, sending small pebbles flying everywhere. The gargoyle roared at these new injuries, swinging its body around in an attempt to dislodge its attackers. Before long, they’d worn the construct down enough that it collapsed, unable to rise. The last few skeletons, quickly dispatched by small icicles and bolts of lightning from Natalie’s gauntlet.

Serana waved her hand, the skeletons she’d brought back into undeath clattering to the ground as the magic holding them together disintegrated. The moment the last of their enemies fell, every candle went out, plunging the room into its semi-darkness once more.

“That was fun. Shame it didn’t last longer.” Natalie sheathed her weapons, looking for a way to advance from the room. It only took her a moment to discover the truth, “Great, a dead-end.”

Serana shook her head, “I don’t think we’ve reached the top yet. I’d bet there’s some kind of secret passage around here.”

Natalie raised a sceptical eyebrow, but searched the room nonetheless. She pulled on every sconce at the edge of the room, predicting that at least one would open some sort of secret passage. All she managed to do was pull one out of its fixture, showering herself with ancient mortar. Natalie coughed, wiping her face free of the dust. “Ugh, disgusting.”

The vampire searched around the edges of the room, any indication of a hidden door or some sort of secret tunnel. She could see scrape marks near the fireplace, but nothing that would cause them. Even if the chairs in the room were pulled over, they didn’t seem heavy enough to make gouges this deep into the stone. Serana studied the fireplace, scanning for anything out of place. Running her hands over the bricks at the side, she found it. One of them was slightly protruding from the others. A heavy push sent it completely into the wall, mechanisms in the wall screeching their protest at moving for the first time in centuries. The whole fireplace swung out, tracing the exact path of the grooves in the floor, revealing another spiralling staircase, climbing its way through the tower. Serana sincerely hoped this was the last one they had to climb and would allow them to reach their destination.

“Leave it to my mother… always smarter than I gave her credit for.”

Natalie joined her at the base, scratching her head, “What is with castle owners and secret passages? Regular hallways or stairs aren’t good enough?”

“Helps get away from the rabble. Like certain Wood Elves.” Serana winked at Natalie, climbing up through the tower.

“That’s just plain mean.” The elf followed, pulling the secret door shut behind her.

The stairs went on for some time, ascending further and further. They eventually ended in a plain wooden door, not even a lock on it. Serana glanced at Natalie before pushing it open, silent despite the centuries it would’ve remained closed.

They came onto a landing above a large area, another landing on the opposite side. Alchemical tools were everywhere, covering nearly every inch of the walls. Serana quickly hurried over to the wall, marvelling at it all.

She looked excitedly back at Natalie, “Look at this place! This has to be it! I knew she was deep into necromancy. I mean, she taught me everything I know. But I had no idea she had a setup like his. Look at it all. She must have spent years collecting theses components.” Serana’s excitement was contagious, Natalie couldn’t help a small smile lighting up her face, “And what’s this thing?” Serana stood on the balcony overlooking the centre of the room, concentric circles carved into the floor. Natalie joined her, leaning over the space, no balustrade to stop her. “I’m not sure about this circle, but it’s obviously… something. Let’s look around, there has to be something here that tells us where she’s gone.”

“Anything specific to look for?”

“Valerica always kept meticulous notes on her research. If we can find those, we’ll find exactly where she’s gone.”

Natalie nodded, pausing for a moment before speaking, “Those gargoyles we faced, did she keep them around the rest of the castle?”

“Not that I ever saw. My mother had a bit of a thing for magical constructs.” Natalie smirked and wiggled her eyebrows, “Oh god, not… not what ever you’re thinking. She just found them fascinating.”

“She really knew how to keep a good laboratory. I don’t know what half of these things do and I’m a fairly accomplished alchemist.”

“I had no idea this room even existed. She had an alchemy setup in her drawing room, but that’s like a child’s play set compared to this. It doesn’t even come close.”

“What do you think she was researching with all this?”

“Looking at the equipment and” -Serana looked closely at some of the ingredients on the shelf- “materials, it looks like she was trying to advance her necromancy.”

“To what end? Summon some super skeleton? That’s something I would do.”

Serana laughed, “I don’t know. Certainly not longevity, kind of a waste of time for a vampire.”

The two women fanned out, searching for any clue to Valerica’s whereabouts. Serana looked over a bookshelf, leafing through several books. Some were incredibly interesting treatises on necromancy or alchemy written by Valerica, but none gave any clue whatsoever for finding her.

Natalie made her way to the opposite landing, swinging wide of the circles carved into the ground. She didn’t know what they were, so assumed touching them in anyway would lead to some sort of reaction, likely bad for her health. The second landing had far less on it, seeming to be more used for the experiments Valerica performed here. Scorch marks littered the floor, the ash undisturbed for centuries, coating Natalie’s feet. A small table in the centre of the back wall caught Natalie’s eye. She picked up a small leather-bound book from it. Natalie could feel a small amount of magic coming from its pages, guessing it was to prevent the paper from deteriorating for long periods of time. She opened it, leafing through the ancient paper. Illustrations Natalie couldn’t decipher appeared at the front, neat flowing script following them.

_Serana is safe. She’s hidden where the monster will never find her. I can focus on getting into the Soul Cairn now. If I can just talk to the Ideal Masters, I know I’ll be able to get the power I need to destroy him outright. Then maybe we can live in relative peace without looking over our shoulders every minute for his backstabbing._

The next passage had been written sometime after, the script far messier, appearing angrier than before.

_WHY CAN’T I FIGURE IT OUT? It shouldn’t be this hard. There’s got to be a simple way to at least contact them. Surely, they know what I’m doing. I’ve shattered so many soul gems trying to get in. Why won’t they just tell me?!_

Even more indecipherable diagrams followed, before a final passage.

_I’ve done it. I’ve actually done it! The portal is stable. I can enter without worrying about getting out again. Why couldn’t I see this before? The ingredients were so simple. At least I’ve done it now. I’ll get the power, annihilate that thing below. It’ll be nice. Finally, able to have peace. Time for myself maybe? Maybe a trip somewhere? I’ll plan after I get back. It’s time to enter._

“Serana?”

The vampire stood up from where she was searching on the other side of the room. “Find anything?”

“Your mothers notes I’m pretty sure.” Natalie made her way back over to Serana, handing her the small journal.

“You did? Let me see them.” Serana opened the book, pouring over the sketches at the front.

“What’s this ‘Soul Cairn’ she mentions?”

Serana looked up from the book, surprised at Natalie’s question, “I only know what she told me. See, she had a theory about soul gems. That the souls inside of them don’t just vanish when they’re used… they end up somewhere. She thought that might be the Soul Cairn.”

“What’s the point in caring where used souls go?”

“She was sure the Soul Cairn was home to very powerful beings. The Ideal Masters. Some necromancers send them souls, and receive power in return.” Serana read a few passages from the journal, “Valerica spent a lot of time trying to contact them directly. She always wanted to travel there, speak to the Ideal Masters, get even more power.”

Natalie placed her hand on Serana’s shoulder, “If she made it there, we’ll find her.”

The vampire smiled, “I know.” She walked to the edge of the balcony, comparing the diagrams to the markings on the floor, “That circle in the centre of the room is definitely some type of portal. If I’m reading this right, there’s a formula here that should give us safe passage into the Soul Cairn.”

Natalie joined her on the balcony, “Alright, what do we need?”

Serana ran her finger down a list, “A handful of soul gem shards, some finely-ground bone meal, a good bit of purified void salts… Oh… god damnit…”

“What’s wrong?”

Serana turned to face Natalie, “We’re also going to need a sample of her blood. That’ll make the portal appear relatively close to her. Otherwise we’ll be spat out somewhere, and we might search for eternity and never find her. Which… if we could get her blood, we wouldn’t even be trying to do this in the first place.”

Natalie thought for a few seconds, “What about your blood? You share at least some with your mother.”

Her eyes widened, “Hmm… not bad. We’d better hope that’s good enough. Mistakes with these kinds of portals can be… gruesome. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s get started.”

“Um… I don’t know about you, but I don’t carry any of that around with me.” Natalie patted the sides of her legs, “Small pockets you see.”

Serana deadpan stared at Natalie. “They’ll all be here. Valerica would’ve had plenty of those ingredients in this laboratory, we just need to find them.”

“Oh.” Natalie looked sheepishly at the floor, “Of course.”

The ingredients quickly came together, the lab being well stocked with everything they needed. Natalie dropped them all in a small basin on the balcony, stepping back for Serana.

“Then the rest is up to me.” Serana held up her hand, bringing her dagger to it. “Are you ready to go? I’m not entirely sure what this thing is going to do when I add my blood.”

Natalie hesitated, “Actually, can I ask you something before we do this?”

She lowered the dagger back to her side, “Of course. What is it?”

Natalie breathed out slowly, searching for the right words, “What will you do if,” Serana raised an eyebrow, “sorry, when, we find your mother?”

The vampire faltered at the question, a slight frown forming on her face, “I’ve been asking myself the same question since we came back here. Valerica was so sure of what we did to my father, I couldn’t help but go along with her. I guess I never really though about the cost or what it would do to me personally.”

“From the start of her notes, it sounds like she did everything for your sake.”

“Possibly. I guess even a vampire mother is still a mother. She worried about me. About all of us. Even Harkon at the beginning. But she wanted me as far away from him as possible before he really went over the edge.” Serana rubbed the sides of her arms. “But… you read the notes. By the time she was able to get into the Soul Cairn… there’s not even a mention of me. It’s all her. She was practically smirking when we left home. Almost like she was proud of herself. Like she didn’t just want to stop my father… she wanted to stick it to him, too. Maybe this is what she intended the whole time.”

Natalie stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Serana. “We won’t know until we find her and ask her.”

Serana hesitated before reciprocating the affectionate embrace, “Yes... yes, you’re right.” She rested her forehead on Natalie’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect anyone to care how I felt about her. Thank you.”

Natalie let go, smiling, “Let’s get that portal open then.”

“All right. here goes.” Serana brought the dagger to her palm once more, with a renewed sense of belief in their mission here. She grunted as the dagger bit down into her flesh, slightly deeper than she’d intended. Bringing the dagger away, she squeezed her fist shut, blood dripping down into the basin of ingredients.

The reaction was almost immediate. Every reagent in the basin began to glow, disappearing into thin air. Slight rumbling issued forth from the circles in the centre of the room. They grated against the two women’s ears as they began to rotate, some of them splitting into several pieces. Deep magenta magic pulsed from between them, their spinning becoming more erratic. They rose from the floor, leaving a space of nothingness below. A staircase formed down to the centre, blocks of stone still flying above it.

All at once, the movement stopped, the portal completing itself and stabilising within the room. The magic radiated from the centre, concentrated at a single point.

Serana awed whisper echoed through the room, “By the blood of my ancestors… she actually did it… created a portal to the Soul Cairn. Incredible.”

Natalie redid the strap on her bandolier. “No time like the present.”

“Yeah, let’s go in.”

Natalie went first, calmly descending the stairs. The reaction was instantaneous. The moment her foot touched the portal proper, she was blasted backwards through the air. She flipped over twice before colliding with the back wall and falling to the floor. Serana was by her side in an instant as she struggled and failed to rise. “Natalie! Are you alright?”

The elf coughed, clutching at her side. “Well that hurt. I think I broke a rib.” She moved in the wrong direction, a gasp of pain escaping from her lips, “Ok, yeah, definitely broke a rib.” A small healing spell repaired the damage, her breathing coming much easier. She turned to Serana who was kneeling next to her, “What in all of Oblivion was that?”

Serana leafed through her mother’s notes, “Now that I think about it… I should have expected that.” Her face creased with a grimace, “Sorry. It’s hard to describe. The Soul Cairn is… well, hungry, for lack of a better word.” She met Natalie’s gaze, “It’s trying to take you life essence as payment.”

“Then they’ll have to get in line. There’s at least two Daedric Princes who have claim to my soul before them.” Natalie stood, marching back to the portal’s staircase, “So there’s no way in, then.”

Serana nervously cleared her throat, “There might be, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“Vampires aren’t counted among the living. I could probably go through there without a problem.”

Natalie’s blood ran cold, “Are you saying that I need to become a vampire?”

“Not your first choice, I’d guess.”

“Well, no. Isn’t there any other way?”

“Maybe.” Serana had possibly the worst idea she’d ever had, “We could just ‘pay the toll’ another way. It wants a soul, so we give it a soul.” She paused for a moment, allowing it to sink in, “Yours.”

Natalie’s mouth fell open, unable to respond for almost a minute. “So… my options are; one, have you turn me into a vampire. Or two, rip my soul out of my body, and die.”

Serana shook her head, “Not necessarily. My mother taught me a trick or two. I could partially soul trap you, and offer that gem to the Ideal Masters. I think even a portion of the Last Dragonborn’s soul would satisfy them. It would make you a bit weaker while we’re travelling in there, but we might be able to fix that once we’re inside. Maybe.”

The elf ran her hands over her ears, lacing them together behind her head, “These are seriously my only two options?”

Serana avoided Natalie’s eyes, “I’m sorry. I wish I knew a better way, something that would be easier for you. Just know that, whichever path you choose, I won’t think any less of you. Sometimes things just have to be done.” Serana swallowed, “I know that better than anybody.”

Natalie was completely silent for several minutes. So many thoughts raced through her head, they were almost maddening. Becoming a vampire was something she’d never even considered. Her transformation into a werewolf was not a choice either, but at least she had some semblance of control over when she changed. If she became a vampire, there would be no turning back. She would permanently be in that state. The sun would become her enemy. People would chase her out of town for simply being. She’d have to drink another person’s blood just to survive.

There were positives to the change she had to consider. Increased strength, stamina and speed. No normal person would ever be capable of going toe to toe with her again. There’d be no surprise attacks.

The other option was almost impossible as well. How much would this partial soul trap weaken her? By half? More? What if she and Serana never found a way to restore that piece of her soul? She’d be permanently debilitated by it. The mission she’d set out to accomplish would become completely impossible instead of only nearly impossible.

“What… will I still be a werewolf? If… if you turn me?”

Natalie’s sudden question surprised Serana, “Um… no. You’ll be unable to change into a werewolf again.”

She nodded, glad that was the case. What Orthjolf had done to her would never happen again.

Then the thought struck Natalie. If she became a vampire… she’d be immortal once more.

Alduin’s curse would hold no sway over her life anymore.

She’d be _free_.

“Will… will I be immortal?” Natalie’s eyes shone with a pleading look, begging Serana to confirm her suspicions, her hopes.

Serana instantly understood Natalie’s meaning, “Yes. Alduin will have lost his hold over your life.”

Natalie stood up straight, completely sure of what she had to do. “Then I’ve made my decision. I want you to turn me into a vampire.”

Serana carefully watched Natalie’s face, searching for any doubt she might have in this decision. “Are you absolutely sure? I’m willing to turn you, but you need to think it through. You’d become the very thing you’d sworn to destroy. I don’t know how the Dawnguard will react.”

The elf sighed, the determined look on her face faltering. She tore herself away from Serana’s gaze, “Serana, I… I searched and studied for over 50 years for a cure.” Tears crept into the edge of her vision. “I never found a solution. Not even a single mention in all that time, of a way to beat Alduin’s final revenge on me.” She returned her eye’s to Serana’s, “Sixty percent of my life. That’s how long I’ve wasted on this pathological need to cure myself. I needed my immortality back. I was consumed by it. I was convinced I would never have even the smallest piece of a normal life if I couldn’t get it back. I could have had it. But now…” She turned her gaze to the floor, “I’ll be lucky if I live another ten years. My aging is accelerating. I can feel it. My hair hadn’t started to turn grey five years ago. My body didn’t start to slow down until ten years ago.” Her determination returned. “If this can give me what I’ve sought for so long… give me another chance at life… then I’m prepared to take the risk. Whatever the negatives are for it, I’ll deal with them.

“As for the Dawnguard,” Natalie paused, “They don’t need to know. And if they find out… we’ll run. They’ll never find us.” Serana moved to stand right in front of Natalie, barely a foot of space between them. “I’m ready.”

Serana hesitated for a moment, “Turning someone is a very… personal thing for vampires. It’s…” Serana swallowed, fully aware of how she was sounding, how much she wanted this, “intimate. For us. I don’t want you to feel like I’m forcing you into this.”

Natalie looked up into Serana’s eyes, “In that case, I’m glad you’re the one doing it.” Natalie pulled her hair over her left shoulder and pulled her armour down slightly, exposing her neck.

Serana’s eyes flitted to the unblemished bronze skin. “I promise to try and make this as painless as possible.” Serana closed her eyes briefly, allowing the vampiric power to flow through her. She opened her mouth a short way, two fangs extending from either side. Her eyes slowly opened, the gold replaced by blood red. She gradually closed the distance between them, lifting her hand to lightly hold Natalie’s neck on the opposite side to the bare skin, threading her fingers slightly through the elf’s auburn locks. Her other hand rested on Natalie’s shoulder, support for herself, and reassurance for Natalie.

Her fangs grazed the elf’s neck, almost breaking the skin. Her breath ghosted over it, tickling the sensitive skin, causing Natalie to shiver. Serana could feel her heart beating more erratically. Her hesitation would do nothing for the situation. She finally sunk her fangs into Natale’s neck, careful to keep the rest of her teeth away from her.

Immediately, Serana was struck by the taste of Natalie’s blood. She’d never tasted something sweeter, stronger, subtler, more delicate, or more potent in her extremely long life. She almost felt drunk from just the smallest bit of Natalie’s life essence. It took all of her considerable willpower to stop herself from simply draining this intoxicating liquid, until there was nothing left. This was what true power felt like. Natalie’s blood was indescribable.

Serana began the final stage of conferring vampirism. She poured her power through her fangs, infusing Natalie’s body with it. She could feel Natalie’s werewolf essence fighting with the invading power. Serana increased the force, the lupine spirit receding under the onslaught.

Natalie had never felt this before. It was simultaneously one of the most painful experiences of her life and one of the most euphoric. She could feel her body transforming, its makeup shifting, changing to something else. She gasped out, the final change beginning. She felt the werewolf side of her scream out in protest of this change, while the new came in to squash it away, expel it from her. Her hands fully extended out, small sparks of electricity igniting between her fingers. She began to feel faint, her perception of the surroundings slowly fading. She felt her legs buckle under her, sliding to the floor. Serana came with her, her fangs never retracting from her neck.

Serana pulled back just as Natalie passed out, lightly cradling her companion’s limp body. She lifted Natalie up, carrying her over to the wall, lowering herself to the ground, back resting against the wall. She sat Natalie between her legs, back resting against Serana’s chest. She slowly ran her fingers through Natalie’s long hair, waiting for the elf to wake up and to start her new life as one of them.

 

* * *

 

**The Hunting Grounds**

 

Natalie’s eyes flickered open, finding herself once more within the forest of Hircine. She was sat against a tree, a warm fur draped over her legs. The great wolf sat a small distance away, staring off into the distance.

_Hello again Natalie_. Hircine’s voice echoed through the forest.

Natalie was at a loss for words. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

The wolf turned its head, _For what my child_?

“I won’t be a werewolf anymore.”

_I know._

“That’s… that’s it? You’re not furious?”

_I have no reason to be. It is time for you to move on._

“I was sure you’d be angry with me. I was trying to prepare myself for what you’d do.”

_I can not be angry at you for doing something you need._ The wolf cocked its head, _You have sort a way to undo what Alduin did for most of your life Natalie. I can not begrudge you this. While I am sad you will no longer be one of my children, I am happy that you have found a way to live. You need this. And… the power I gave you will not be enough in the battles to come. Molag Bal’s will. Vampirism will give you the necessary strength. You will need Serana’s guidance in this, but fear not, she will provide it willingly._

“Thank you” Natalie smiled at the wolf, “For everything you’ve done for me.”

_You are most welcome Dragonborn._ The wolf suddenly looked slightly pained. _I have one piece of advice before you go Natalie._

“What is it?”

_Beware Molag Bal. He will not be as… friendly as myself or Nocturnal have been. You must carefully think on what he says to you at any time. And even more carefully on what you say back. I know you have had brief experiences with him in the past, but… it is not the same as being one of his._

Natalie was touched by Hircine’s concern, “I will be. Thank you for the advice.”

The wolf nodded, padding off into the forest and disappearing from Natalie’s sight.

Natalie rested back against the tree, closing her eyes and listening to the comforting sounds of the forest. She sighed, enjoying the peace and quiet that would disappear once her mind returned to her body.

A tearing sound echoed through the forest. Natalie’s eyes flew open just in time to see a clawed arm reach from a portal and wrap its fingers around her throat. Before she had time to react, Natalie was savagely pulled through the portal, the forest of Hircine immediately changing.

 

* * *

 

**Coldharbour, Realm of Daedric Prince Molag Bal**

 

Natalie was slammed against a rocky cliff, completely knocking the wind out of her. She grabbed at the hand currently strangling her, trying to loosen the grip. Sharp protrusions scratched at her back, making any of her struggles even more painful.

“ **Ah. Finally. The Dragonborn. How long I’ve waited to bring you here.** ”

Natalie’s eyes finally focused on the being in front of her. Molag Bal. His form resembled that of a reptilian bull, horns arising from his head, but every inch of his skin covered in scales. His face was still humanoid, but twisted, the mouth far too large and filled with enough razor-sharp teeth that Natalie couldn’t see past them until he opened his mouth wide.

“Molag Bal. A pleasure.” Natalie found she could speak normally, despite the feeling that she would pass out from lack of air at any given moment.

“ **Ah ha! A courteous slave. How interesting! Neither Hircine nor Nocturnal told me their pet would be so pleasurable. Or so…** ” Molag Bal’s eyes wandered down Natalie’s naked body, “ **Delectable.** ” His tongue flickered out between the teeth, running over the front of them.

Natalie supressed her revulsion, doing her best to remember Hircine’s advice. “Thank you, my lord.”

“ **It is rather fascinating that you would come to me now. Vampirism was always one of my favourite blessings on your realm. And as luck would have it, the date is coming near. Very near.** ”

Natalie’s eyebrows creased with confusion, “What date?”

“ **Oh, needn’t you worry about that right now. All you need to do, is get back to the lovely little Serana. Send her my regards, would you? I have missed her since our… ceremony.** ”

Molag Bal released Natalie, her body collapsing to the ground and gasping for air. His laughter rang in Natalie’s ears, but when she looked up, he was gone. She picked herself up off the ground, shivering in the freezing air of Coldharbour. Nothing but desolation surrounded her, a cruel realm Natalie hoped she would see very little of. Her perception began to flicker, her mind being pulled back to her true body in Castle Volkihar. She fell once more, completely losing her grip on Oblivion just as she hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	9. Enter the Soul Cairn

**Morndas, 5:10am, 27 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Castle Volkihar Laboratory**

 

Serana’s hand froze midway through Natalie’s hair. The elf had muttered something in her unconsciousness. Something disturbing. A chill had passed down Serana’s spine, setting her on edge. She carefully moved Natalie from between her legs, sitting her up against the wall and kneeling down in front of the new vampire.

Natalie’s senses slowly came back to her. Just when she thought they were fully back, they continued to heighten, new sounds, new smells and even her touch was enhanced. Her eyes flickered open, blinking several times. Serana could see the blood red dissipate, replaced by the forest green she’d come to know.

A smile slowly spread across Natalie’s face as Serana came into focus. Her vision was similar to when the vampire had cast her spell, but even better. She could make out the individual strands of hair framing Serana’s face. She saw even more detail in her eyes, golds, oranges, and even a few tiny flecks of green. A tiny, almost invisible scar she’d never noticed before on Serana’s cheek.

She looked down at her hands, staring at them in awe. Her gauntlet’s glow was more pronounced, the blows of the hammer that had made it noticeable. The way the plates interlocked was infinitely more fascinating, rotating her hand in every direction. Her right hand was just as enthralling, the tattoo on the back of her hand looked sharper. She could see every point the needle had entered her skin. She could even see the enchantment running through the ink.

Everywhere she looked, more details were visible than she ever thought possible. Serana climbed to her feet, holding her hand out for the elf’s. Natalie took it, pulling herself up with her new-found strength. “This… this is amazing.” Her magic even came easier to her, setting her gauntlet aflame with the smallest thought. She quickly shifted it to lightning, frost, healing, time and back to fire before letting the magic sputter out. “Do you see like this all the time?”

“Yes.” Serana smirked at Natalie’s excitement.

“And my hearing,” Natalie’s ears twitched at a sound not even from the room they were in, “I can hear… everything.”

Serana laughed, “Yeah, that gets more annoying than you’d think it would.”

Natalie raised her right hand to her mouth, feeling the fangs that had replaced two of her teeth. “Ow!” She pricked herself on one, a small bead of blood appearing on her finger. The wound very quickly healed itself of its own accord. She turned to Serana with a shining smile, “Thank you.” Natalie paused for a moment, searching for the right words to truly show her gratitude, “For giving me my life back.” Natalie threw her arms around Serana, hugging her tightly.

Serana returned the embrace, “You’re very welcome.”

The new vampire started towards the portal, “Ready to go?”

The older vampire nodded, joining Natalie at the top of the staircase. “Let’s find my mother.”

The two vampires walked down the steps side by side, and marched through the portal together.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 5:20am, 27 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Soul Cairn**

 

The two women walked out of the other side of the portal into the realm of souls proper. An almost exact replica of the staircase they’d walked down in Nirn continued further down to the ground. Natalie quickly inspected her gauntlet, dreading the pain that usually accompanied her trips through portals and the need to cast the enchantment once more. She was glad to see it was still fulling functioning, no pain whatsoever. The ground they alighted onto felt spongy beneath her bare feet, as though piles of soil had only just been laid down, and it hadn’t had a chance to compact itself yet.

The Soul Cairn was everything Serana expected it to be, but at the same time nothing like she’d thought. The ground was a sickly grey, strewn with bones and dead vegetation. Crumbling ruins stretched as far as she could see, single towers the only thing to make it above a few metres tall. Everything else was a complete wasteland, bricks strewn about their foundations. The sky was what truly amazed her. A swirling vortex of energy, the centre of it the black of nothingness, purple radiating out from this point. Lightning regularly issued forth from it, somehow striking itself and not the ground. The bolts which did make it to the ground sent shockwaves from their point of impact, heard from even what seemed miles away.

Natalie joined her in her star gazing, “Reminds me a little of Sovngarde.”

“What?” Serana finally tore herself away from looking at the sky.

“The sky. It’s similar to Sovngarde’s. More foreboding, and not nearly as beautiful, but yeah. Sovngarde.”

“Okay. Hopefully the portal spit us out somewhere near my mother. Unless of course it didn’t work and we’re miles from her and we’ll never find her, then I turned you for nothing and this whole thing is pointless and Harkon is going to find us and then we’re going to die and Tamriel will-”

Natalie placed her hands on Serana’s shoulders, gently shaking her from her rambling, “Hey hey, slow down, alright? It worked. We’re here aren’t we? We’ve got to keep clear heads. Now, look around, I’m sure we can figure out where we should go from here right?”

Serana slowly breathed out, briefly closing her eyes and calming herself, “You’re right. Clear heads.” Serana surveyed their surroundings, seeing nothing at first that would indicate which direction they should take. Her eyes narrowed at two beams of energy pointing at the sky, dissipating before they came close to the vortex. They emanated from the largest structure they could see. It looked like a small fort, though the top of the walls were still in similar condition to the rest of the Soul Cairn. “How about there? Looks important, maybe we can at least find a clue there.”

“Sounds good to me, let’s get moving.” Natalie drew her bow, instinctively tapping her metal digits on the grip.

The two vampires set off, following a winding path through the desolated terrain. Souls on the side of the road were in various states of distress. Some screamed their lamentations as they passed, others were quietly sobbing. Others looked as though they couldn’t see at all, their eyes vacant, staring at something in the distance only they could see. Skeletons rushed at them from different directions, but Natalie was waiting, using her new vampiric speed to shoot them down before they got too close. Even Serana could barely see her draw the arrow, greatly impressed at how quickly she’d adapted to her new powers.

They eventually came to the ruins Serana had pointed out, confronted by a tall magical barrier. Natalie tapped on it with her gauntlet, only succeeding in sending a ripple spreading through it. She looked more closely and decided nothing they could do would be able to breach it. They’d have to find whatever cast it, and disable it.

“Hello?” Serana’s voice echoed over the empty terrain. Natalie could hear a scrambling from behind the barrier. Someone or something was coming to see them. What came from around a corner was a woman. This woman was clearly a vampire, judging from her clothes, almost identical to Serana’s. Natalie stared for a few seconds, realising who this was. The resemblance was uncanny, the only difference between this woman and Serana was the age. This other woman had clearly been turned much later in life, wrinkles visible at the edges of her eyes and mouth. She also tied her hair in a far more formal style to Serana, done up in a bun behind her head instead of Serana’s preferred loose style. There was only one person this could be. “Mother!”

The woman’s eyes widened in recognition, “Maker… it can’t be… Serana?!”

 “Is it… is it really you? I can’t believe it! How do we get inside? We…” Serana paused, reining herself in, becoming far more serious, “We have to talk.”

Valerica barrelled on, seemingly ignoring what Serana had said, “Serana? What are you doing here? Where’s your father?”

Serana’s brow creased with irritation, “He doesn’t know we’re here. I don’t have time to explain.”

“I must have failed. Harkon’s found a way to decipher the prophecy, hasn’t he?” Valerica’s hands ran through her hair, pulling some from the tight bun.

“No, you’ve got it all wrong. We’re here to complete the prophecy our way, not his.”

“Really?!” Natalie interrupted the conversation, “That’s how you greet your own daughter? After, quite literally, thousands of years of not seeing her. Not, ‘Oh Serana, how have you been after I locked you up?’ or ‘I’m so glad to see you, thank the divines you’re safe.’” Natalie’s mocking tone was met with a cold stare from Valerica.

Valerica held up a finger, silencing Natalie, “Wait a moment…” The ancient vampire’s attention turned back to Serana, “You brought a stranger here? Have you lost your mind?”

“No, you don’t…” Serana couldn’t find the words to deal with her mother’s wrath.

The elder vampire turned her icy stare back to Natalie, assessing her from top to bottom in less than a second, “You. I would speak with you.” Natalie tapped her foot, waiting for Valerica to continue, “So how has it come to pass that a vampire of mixed blood is in the company of my daughter?”

Natalie rolled her eyes at the barely veiled insult, “I’ve been keeping her safe. Something you clearly have no expertise with, considering where you left her.”

“Safe? You call bringing her here safe? Has she explained nothing to you?” Valerica’s eyes returned to affix Serana, but continued to talk at Natalie, “Serana has sacrificed everything to prevent Harkon from completing the prophecy. I would have expected her to explain that to you.”

“Why do you think we’re here? We thought we’d just take a lovely stroll through this charming place.” Natalie’s sarcasm was not well met, “We’re here for the Elder Scroll.”

“You think I’d have the audacity to place my own daughter in that tomb for the protection of her Elder Scroll alone? The scrolls are merely a means to an end. The key to the Tyranny of the Sun is Serana herself.”

This was new information for Natalie, “What do you mean?”

Valerica sighed, annoyed she had to explain this, “When I fled Castle Volkihar, I fled with two Elder Scrolls. The scroll I presume you found with Serana speaks of Auriel and his arcane weapon, Auriel’s bow.” Natalie nodded, confirming Valerica’s words, “The second scroll declares that ‘The Blood of Coldharbour’s Daughter will blind the eye of the Dragon.’”

“And Serana is a ‘Daughter of Coldharbour’?”

Valerica nodded, slightly impressed at Natalie’s quick deduction skills. “Like myself, Serana was a human once. We were devout followers of Lord Molag Bal.” The hairs on the back of Natalie’s neck stood on end at the mention of her new patron, “Tradition dictates the females be offered to Molag Bal on his summoning day. Few survive the ordeal. Those that do emerge as a pure-blooded vampire. We call such confluences the ‘Daughters of Coldharbour.’”

Natalie’s blood ran cold, “And because Serana is a pure vampire, Harkon only needs her blood to complete the prophecy.”

“Now you’re beginning to see why I wanted to protect Serana, and why I’ve kept the other Elder Scroll as far from her as possible.”

The elf dreaded asking the next question, “How far would Harkon go to finish the prophecy?” Natalie shivered slightly before continuing, “Would he ki… would he kill Serana?”

Valerica confirmed the elf’s dread, “If Harkon obtained Auriel’s Bow and Serana’s blood was used to taint the weapon, the Tyranny of the Sun would be complete. In his eyes, she’d be dying for the good of all vampires.”

Natalie straightened up, trying to look as confident as she could, “I would never allow that to happen.”

Valerica gave a short bark of laughter, “And how exactly do you plan on completing the prophecy without the death of my daughter?”

“Simple really.” Natalie stared into Valerica’s eyes, “I’ll kill Harkon.”

The vampire snorted slightly, “If you believe that, then you’re a bigger fool than I originally suspected. Don’t you think I weighed that option before I enacted my plans?”

“You obviously don’t know who I am, or what I’m capable of.”

“I can see enough just by looking at you. You barely compare to my” -Valerica had trouble saying the next word, a vile expression crossing her face as she did- “husband.”

“How about we ask the only person who really matters in this conversation? What’s Serana’s opinion on this?”

Valerica’s irritation became even more evident, “You care nothing for Serana or out plight. You see us as simply a means to an end, a chance at deification. You’ll destroy us all to get it. You’re a stranger to our cause, and you don’t care to learn it.”

Natalie snapped, slamming her plated fist into the barrier, “Excuse me?! You know NOTHING about me. You don’t know my fucking motivations. You don’t know why I’m doing all this, and I doubt you fucking care to ask, so wrapped up in a pathetic power struggle with your husband that-”

Serana put her hand on Natalie’s shoulder, stopping her from continuing. She stepped forward till nearly touching the barrier, staring Valerica down, “This ‘stranger’ as you call her, has done more for me in just a few measly little months I’ve been privileged enough to know her, then you’ve done in CENTURIES!” Serana’s eyes changed to blood red, so infuriated with the woman on the other side of the barrier.

Valerica’s eyes changed to match her daughter’s, staring back with the same ferocity, “How… DARE YOU! I gave up EVERYTHING I cared about to protect YOU from that fanatic you call a father!”.

Serana didn’t back down a single inch, her voice getting louder with every syllable, “Yes, he’s a fanatic… he’s changed after all these years. But he’s still my FATHER. Why can’t you understand how that makes me feel?”

The elder vampire’s eyes rolled, “Oh, Serana. If you’d only open your eyes. The moment your ‘father’ discovers your role in the prophecy, that he needs your blood, you’d be in terrible danger.”

Serana had finally had enough, her fury exploding with small flames shooting from her clenched fists, pointing an accusing finger at Valerica, “YOU. ABANDONED. ME. YOU DECIDED TO SHUT ME AWAY FROM EVERYTHING I CARED ABOUT! YOU NEVER ASKED ME IF HIDING FOR FUCKING MILLENIA IN THAT FUCKING TOMB WAS THE BEST COURSE OF ACTION. YOU JUST EXPECTED ME TO FOLLOW YOU BLINDLY. BOTH YOU AND FATHER WERE OBSESSED WITH YOUR OWN FUCKING PATHS. YOUR MOTIVATIONS WERE DIFFERENT,” She gave a short snort of laughter, “but in the end, I’M STILL JUST A PAWN TO YOU, TOO.” Serana’s eyes fell to the ground, tears welling up before she could stop them. She whispered, “I want us to be a family again. But I don’t know if we can ever have that. Maybe we don’t deserve that kind of happiness. Maybe it isn’t for us.

Serana returned her gaze to Valerica’s, “But no matter how I feel, no matter how badly I want for both of you to just put aside your stupid power struggles… we have to stop him. Before he goes too far. And to do that, we need the Elder Scroll.”

Valerica was struck silent from Serana’s outburst. The vampiric power in her eyes completely dissipated, replaced with the shame of realising she was wrong. She’d always been wrong. “I… I… I’m sorry, Serana. I didn’t know… I didn’t see. I’ve allowed my hatred of your father to estrange us for too long. Forgive me. If you want the Elder Scroll, it’s yours.”

“Too little, too late, Mother.”

Serana stalked off down the hill the fort was raised up on, leaving Natalie and Valerica alone. Valerica focused on Natalie, seeing her as more than a thing for the first time, “Your intentions are still somewhat unclear to me.” Before Natalie could educate her, Valerica continued, “But for Serana’s sake, I’ll assist you in any way that I can.”

Natalie regarded Valerica coldly, completely unsympathetic to the suddenly helpful vampire matriarch, “Do you have the Elder Scroll with you?”

Valerica noted Natalie’s tone, but couldn’t deny her right to use it, “Yes. I’ve kept it secured here ever since I was imprisoned. However, you’ll need to breach this barrier to get it. You need to located the tallest of the rocky spires that surround these ruins. At their bases, the barrier’s energy is being drawn from unfortunate souls that have been exiled here. Destroy the Keepers that are tending them, and it should bring the barrier soon.”  Natalie nodded, walking a short distance away from Valerica, “Before you go.” Natalie stopped short, turning to face Valerica once more, “Please know I was only doing what I thought was best for Serana.”

Natalie allowed her vampiric power to come forth, runes and irises briefly flashing with red energy, “If you actually knew what that was, you would never have locked her away.”

“I...” Valerica broke her eye contact with Natalie, sensing that the elf was indeed correct, “One more word of warning. There’s a dragon that calls itself Durnehviir roaming the Cairn. Be wary of him. The Ideal Masters have charged him with overseeing the Keepers, and will undoubtedly intervene if you’re perceived as a threat. Be careful, and keep my daughter safe.”

“Dragon?” Natalie eye’s widened at this revelation. She thought she’d killed all the dragons raised by Alduin, and the ones she hadn’t had agreed to leave the people of Tamriel alone. “I... if you knew who I was, you’d know that wasn’t a problem.”

Before Valerica could question Natalie’s cryptic statement, she was gone, leaving her to think about how she’d wasted thousands of years in this desolate realm.

Natalie searched for Serana, finally finding her sitting on a rock nearly at the bottom of the hill, head in her hands. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it, instead sitting down next to her. Serana’s back rose up and down with heavy breaths, trying to calm a rage she’d never felt before.

Serana finally looked up at Natalie, finding the elf staring off into the distance. Serana leant her head on Natalie’s shoulder, sighing heavily. “I don’t think I’ve ever been angrier at a person in my entire life.”

Natalie wrapped her arm around Serana’s shoulders, “Well, you definitely had reason to. It’s not every day you see someone who locked you up for a few millennia and forgot where the key was.”

“It’s just… she’s so infuriatingly self-righteous. How dare I? How dare I question her for putting me in a tomb, keep me away from the whole world, simply because she and my father can’t get over their pathetic little squabbles.”

“I’ve had more than my fair share of betrayals, and I’m not suggesting you forgive Valerica, but we do need to work with her, at least until we get out of here.”

Serana wiped the last few of her tears away, standing up and turning to Natalie, “You’re right. I don’t need to forgive her, and I doubt I ever will, but we should get moving. Let’s kill those… Keeper things and get back to the prison.”

“If you heard that, I assume you heard the other interesting piece of news?”

“The dragon?” Serana’s lips curled into a small grin, “Well, very lucky I have the Dragonborn to protect me then isn’t it?” She winked at Natalie, the elf giving a short chuckle.

“Very lucky indeed.”

The spires were not hard to find. They jutted out of the landscape like beacons, climbing their way to the vortex in the sky. The two vampires could see the Keeper at the first one they approached from some distance away, standing guard over a gate to the spire proper. To Natalie, its armour appeared to be made of dragon bones, the same material as its weapon. This would mean most physical attacks they could assault it with would have little to no affect, depending on how strong this monster was. A dark smoke poured from every split in the armour, especially from under the helmet. Two glowing blue eyes were visible behind the helmet, ever shifting to watch the landscape. As they got closer, Natalie realised this Keeper was a giant, at least triple her own height. The fight became ever more complicated with this realisation.

Natalie considered their options before she had an idea. It would have been impossible to pull off before, but now with her newly enhanced strength, she could probably do it. She smirked at Serana, who narrowed her eyes, suspicious of Natalie’s new-found joy, “What are you planning?”

Natalie’s smirk grew wider, “Watch this.”

Natalie drew her bow and took off at a sprint, the Keeper instantly seeing her brazen charge. It began its own charge, letting out a war-cry as it moved towards the approaching elf. Natalie fired arrows at it, easily batted aside by the surprising speed this guardian was capable of. As it cast aside the final arrow and had nearly close the distance between them, Natalie deftly spun over the top of its battle-axe's swing. Using the momentary lapse in battle, she sped forward, bringing her foot whipping around as fast as she could into the back of the giant’s knee. It crumpled to the ground, stunned. Natalie leapt onto its back, quickly climbing to its head. The Keeper attempted to dislodge her, reaching up to grab around its head. Natalie dodged every attempt, grasping the helmet on its head and ripping it off.

She revealed a skull covered in the same black smoke emanating from the rest of its body. She threw the armour aside, not necessary for her plan. While the giant still fumbled with getting rid of the elf, Natalie grasped the base of its skull with both hands. She pulled up and tried to twist. The giant, despite the complete lack of muscle fibre, somehow managed to keep its neck straight, preventing any kind of injury. Natalie grit her teeth as the Keeper spun in a circle, feeling herself slipping from the perch. She tried once more, using as much strength as she could. Her eyes turned red, runes glowing with the same power. With one last yell, she snapped the Keeper’s skull completely apart from its body

It did not fall. The black smoke from the skull absorbed into the rest of the skeleton, Natalie tossing aside the now useless bone. Charging both hands with fire, she thrust them into the hole in the Keeper’s armour, flooding everything with the flames. Serana watched on as its entire form was consumed by flames. Natalie jumped from the peak, landing some distance away, quickly spinning around to face it, “ _FUS RO DAH!”_ The Shout hit the remains of the Keeper, sending it careening through the air to explode in a ball of flames against the spire. Immediately, the energy from the spire disappeared, a rush of souls escaping from their prison.

Natalie whistled a short melody as she returned to Serana’s side, spinning an arrow in her hand. “Pretty cool, right?”

Serana laughed, “Bit of a show off.”

“Oh yeah?” The elf raised an eyebrow, “Then you take down the next one.”

Serana grinned at Natalie, “You’re on.”

They found the next spire, hiding behind a rock while Serana looked over the terrain. She spied each of the materials she’d need to pull of her idea, Natalie trying to figure out what she had planned.

“Stay here and watch.”

Natalie nodded, keeping her eyes peeled for Serana’s inevitably masterful display.

Serana snuck around the edge of the small clearing surrounding the spire, keeping an eye on the Keeper standing guard. She got all the way around behind the giant without being seen, preparing herself for the coming event. She stood, standing behind the monster, preparing to cast her spell. Hands softly pulsating deep purple magic, she yelled out, “Hey ugly! Some guard you are, you couldn’t even catch me!”

The Keeper turned towards the sound, bellowing its fury out as it charged towards Serana at the same time as Serana began running at it. Serana released her spell at the ground below her, the magic racing out in front of her, reaching through the ground far below and sinking into its targets. Serana bent backwards under the giant’s swing, sliding under its legs and continuing her sprint. As the monster began to turn, Serana’s spell took effect.

Bony hands burst forth from the ground, grasping onto the Keeper as it passed. More of their compatriots came rumbling up from the earth, breaking the crust and charging at their fresh enemy. Frustration echoed around as the Keeper was overwhelmed by the sheer number of skeletons latching on and attacking it. Every single one worked one of its hands beneath the plates of armour the Keeper wore, preparing it for the final strike. Using what Natalie had taught her about projectionary magic and expanding upon its power, Serana infused every hand with destruction magic, the Keeper’s body shining with fire, frost and lightning.

The black smoke disappeared, same as the first keeper, armour crashing to the ground, bones clattering within it. Serana released the necromantic spell, all of the skeletons she’d raised disintegrating to their previous forms. Serana turned at the sound of clapping, Natalie walking toward her, “Alright, I admit it, you win.”

“Good, you’re coming to terms with your inferiority.” Serana smirked at Natalie, earning a scowl in return.

“Inferiority is it? Well, I might just have to take my Dragonborn skills elsewhere. Maybe someone will appreciate them.” Natalie poked Serana in the arm, earning a short laugh.

“Alright, alright, yours was good too.”

“That’s better. Let’s go kill the other one to get that pesky barrier down.”

The two vampires found the last spire with little trouble, spying the Keeper marching in a slow circle around the grounds. They ducked behind a rock as its head swung towards them, unsure if they’d been spotted or heard. The shuffle of armour and bones receded from them after a few moments, both letting out a relieved sigh.

“This one looks a little more alert than the other two.” Serana noticed subtle differences between this giant and the last two. While the others were essentially the same, this one was slightly larger, two battle-axes instead of the single the other two had wielded. “Maybe it knows its allies are gone.”

Natalie nodded, she had come to the same conclusion as Serana, “Must do. Take this one together?”

“Read my mind.” Serana moved off immediately, circling to the opposite side of the small clearing as Natalie.

Natalie jumped over the rock, firing arrows glowing with lightning at the guardian. They exploded harmlessly against its armour, but had the intended effect of drawing its attention. It came forward to the centre of the area but stopped, learning a lesson from the last two the duo had killed. Its eyes followed Natalie as she sheathed her bow, priming spells in her hands. Natalie could sense Serana’s magic snaking through the earth beneath her, finding any fragment of bone present.

The elf fired a salvo of destruction at the Keeper, keeping its attention fixed firmly on her. The monster took several steps forward, swinging with both weapons attempting to strike the elf. Natalie dodged every which way, bending and twisting her body to avoid the blows. After avoiding a blow by mere inches, Natalie leapt forward, bringing her foot down onto the giant’s wrist. It dropped one of its weapons, stumbling away from the force of her strike. Natalie gripped the lost weapon, heaving it over her shoulder, sweating slightly from the weight. The Keeper seemed to want to laugh, an unearthly cackle erupting from its skeletal jaw. The elf only smiled, “You’ve made your last mistake.”

The giant focused at Natalie’s warning, but not quick enough. Serana’s spell took effect, undead hands breaking through the ground, grabbing and clawing at the ankles of the monster. Similar to its ally it collapsed, but unlike it, was able to regain its footing, stomping down at the threats below. Natalie took the opportunity of its momentary distraction, closing the distance and soaring into the air. She swung the axe down with a battle-cry, cleaving through the Keeper’s shoulder, its arm falling to the ground. Natalie had embedded the axe partly into the ground, not leaving enough time to wrench it free. She used the axe as a jumping point, bounding to the Keeper’s head, throwing the helmet down as she had done before.

The Keeper spun, Natalie holding onto the spine of the creature as she lost her footing. She squeezed as hard as she could with her gauntlet, feeling the satisfying crack of bone between her fingers. She could feel the skull becoming loose, and pulled herself up till her feet were firmly pressed against the back of the Keeper. She managed to grip the skull and yank, snapping the last piece of bone holding the skull fast. Natalie backflipped through the air, landing next to Serana. Both women nodded at each other, producing large fireballs within their hands, and firing them at the headless skeleton. The combined assault of the two proved too much for the Keeper, quickly overwhelming its formidable guard and bringing it to its knees.

The two vampires pooled their magic into twin lightning strikes, one hitting the open neck of the guardian, the other its shoulder where its arm had been cleaved off by Natalie’s axe. The Keeper tumbled to the ground, black smoke vanishing into thin air as it died. Souls from the now defunct spire rushed out past Natalie and Serana, screaming anguished cries as they did.

The barrier that had blocked their passage through to Valerica faded with an audible bang, the unstable energy unable to keep its form any longer. Serana and Natalie made their way back to the fort, Valerica waiting for them at the entrance. Serana strode straight past Valerica further into the ruins, once more leaving Natalie alone with her companion’s mother.

“You destroyed all the keepers?” Valerica couldn’t keep the excitement or amazement out of her voice, “Good, very good. It has been too long since I’ve been free.”

Natalie tapped her foot, annoyed at the statement of the obvious, “Are you able to give us the scroll now?”

“Yes. Please, follow me. Keep watch for Durnehviir. With the prison’s barrier down, he’s almost certain to investigate.” Valerica led Natalie into the fort, briefly stopping near Serana before continuing, leaving their conversation up in the air. Serana fell into step with Natalie, keeping a careful eye on the woman who was her mother.

The three vampires came to a large courtyard. Natalie thought it looked similar to an arena; there was even seating arrayed in tiers around the area. Several rooms came off the area, Natalie only able to guess which one had the scroll.

Valerica began to move across the arena, making for one of the rooms on the far side. This one had a barrier similar to the one that had prevented their access to the fort, but Natalie could tell it was not of this realm. Valerica had obviously figured out the magic used to create her prison, and repurposed it for her own ends. Natalie couldn’t think of anyone in this divine-forsaken realm who could possibly want what Valerica had, but she didn’t question her motives, only hoping that the elder vampire would uphold her promise, and give Serana and Natalie the Elder Scroll.

Serana froze, her ears twitching at a sound. Natalie heard it at the same time, and it was all too familiar, “Wait…” Valerica stopped her march, “I hear something!” Serana frantically searched for the source of the noise, conjuring spells into her hands.

“Prepare yourselves, dragon incoming.” Natalie was completely calm as she drew her bow, carefully notching an arrow to it and preparing herself for a battle she’d won hundreds of times over.

Valerica became even more pale than before, Natalie didn’t think it was possible, “It’s Durnehviir… he’s here! Defend yourselves!” The clear presence of fear was not a good look for Valerica, used to always being the hunter, never the prey, even after the last several millennia living in fear of an enemy.

Natalie motioned to Serana, and they stood back to back, slowly rotating in place, eyes peeled for their enemy. The unseen dragon roared, sending a tingling down Natalie’s spine. She had not faced a dragon since conquering Alduin in Sovngarde, and was itching for the rush that the fights always brought. There was something off about this dragon’s roar however. It sounded hollow, as though it was not truly coming from the dragon itself. It echoed oddly, something Natalie had never heard before. When Durnehviir finally soared up into Natalie’s view, she saw why.

This was no ordinary dragon. This dragon was undead, its flesh appearing to be rotting, even some of its bones visible. There were small holes up and down Durnehviir’s neck, which Natalie assumed was where the roar got its odd character from. Natalie immediately released an arrow, finding its place in the centre of the dragon’s chest. She kept firing, back-tracking as the dragon flew in a wide arc around the arena. Natalie and Serana hid behind a pillar, Durnehviir still keeping his distance from the three vampires.

Valerica kept throwing spell after spell, striking the dragon but doing little damage. Natalie poked her head around the cover, watching the dragon carefully. There was only one way he would land, and Natalie was the only one who could force him. She stepped out into the open, vigilantly orienting herself with the dragon’s flight path. She breathed deeply, summoning a Shout she had not used in decades, “ _JOOR ZAH FRUL_!”

Natalie’s keen eyesight made out Durnehviir’s eyes widening at the sound of his native tongue. Before he could react, the Shout thundered through his rotting body, forcing its understanding on him. Being forced to understand mortality caused his great wings to go limp, sending him plummeting though the air. He hit the wall of the arena, breaking off a large piece of it before slamming into the ground of the arena proper.

The dragon struggled to its feet, stunned at this tiny thing’s ability to Shout. He shook his head out, small scales scattering everywhere as they came loose from his body. His gaze found Natalie, standing defiant. Fury burned within his eyes, prepared to strike at this enemy. The elf dove out of the way of a wave of flames, quickly rolling into cover once more. Serana and Valerica managed to distract Durnehviir from Natalie, flames, ice and lightning exploding against his side. He swung his wings in a circle, narrowly missing Serana, but managing to clip Valerica and send her flying into a wall, cracking the stone. The elder vampire barely managed to get back to her feet, only just still in the fight. She spat out blood, resuming her assault against the foe.

Durnehviir shook off the last affects of Natalie’s Shout, beating his wings and taking flight. He Shouted, one that Natalie had never heard, “ ** _DIIL QOTH ZAAM_!**” Before Natalie could translate and figure out what this Shout did, its effects made themselves known. Skeletons and wraiths rose from the ground, arraying a small battle force against the three vampires. They ignored Natalie, focusing completely on Serana and Valerica, allowing the elf to be free to deal with Durnehviir.

Natalie assaulted the nearest skeleton, ripping its spine out of its body with her gauntlet. Still, none of them would attack her, running straight past for the other two of their foes. Before the elf could kill another, Serana interrupted her, “Go! They only want us, deal with Durnehviir!”

Natalie hesitated for less than a second before drawing her bow once more and tracking the dragon flying above. She fired arrow after arrow, charging each one with as much magic as she could, injuring the undead beast further. She eventually stood in the centre of the arena, slowly rotating on the spot, harassing the dragon’s flight. Just when she thought Durnehviir might’ve sustained enough damage to crash land, he flew even further away than before, taking a sharper turn than Natalie thought dragons were capable of. He pointed his large frame directly at Natalie, holding his wings completely steady.

The young vampire drew her bow back, aiming for directly between the eyes of the great flying beast currently bearing down on her position. As she sighted down the shaft of the arrow, her vision flickered for the briefest moment, a cold sweat breaking out all over Natalie’s body. Durnehviir’s entire being was almost imperceptibly replaced by Alduin, her most dangerous foe, for the smallest amount of time.

The midnight black wings.

The black maw that had taken her arm.

The huge darkness that he had left on everything he touched.

The eyes that had haunted her dreams for years after she had defeated him.

The mark he’d left on her existence, only now, more than fifty years later had it been expunged.

Natalie completely froze, unable to act as her mind played tricks on her. Durnehviir’s form now almost constantly shifted every time Natalie blinked. Alduin was coming. Her eyes widened, breathing coming quicker and more ragged. Heart beating in her throat. She couldn’t move a muscle to get out of the way.

He was here. Again. _No. Not again. PLEASE DIVINES NO! I CAN’T DO IT AGAIN!_

Serana defeated another enemy, giving her a chance to look at Natalie’s progress. Natalie was standing still. Not in the calm focus of battle. Something she’d never seen from Natalie. Fear. Serana could see Natalie’s bow arm shaking, the arm pulling the string back slackening. Her vision shifted to the dragon, currently bearing down on Natalie. Natalie wasn’t going to move. She couldn’t. “NATALIE! GET OUT OF THE WAY!”

Natalie didn’t hear her, could only look on in horror at her worst nightmare getting ever closer. She couldn’t even see Durnehviir anymore, only Alduin.

“NATALIE!” Serana took down every undead monster surrounding her with one blast of lightning, running for her partner, shouldering through the throng of enemies trying to kill her. She burst through the crowd, into the clear space in the arena. She ran as fast as her legs would carry her, faster than she thought she’d ever run. She had to save Natalie, she couldn’t die here. Time seemed to slow down, her eyes flitted to the dragon, just now flying over the walls of the arena. Serana kept moving.

Serana tackled Natalie out of the way, the speed at which she’d hit her sending them both well clear of the dragon’s path. He swept low, claws scraping the ground at exactly the point Natalie had been rooted to, before gaining altitude once more. Serana rolled over on the ground and looked into Natalie’s eyes. They were glassed over, unfocused as her mind continued the same cruel game. Serana cast a line of fire behind her, discouraging the skeletons and wraiths from getting close. She half carried, half dragged Natalie into one of the side rooms, preparing to seal it before Valerica burst into the room and did it for her. Serana could hear the screech of bones against the magical barrier, but was completely unconcerned as she propped Natalie up against the wall.

“Aldu… Ald… No… Can’t do it. No no no.” Natalie’s babbling was incessant, her head swivelling, eyes frantically searching for something only she could see.

“We don’t have time for this. Durnehviir will break through any second.” Valerica’s impatience was clear, her faith in this elf dwindling by the second.

“Then go back out there and kill him yourself.” Valerica stared blankly at Serana, “No? Can’t do it? Then shut up, and give me a minute.” Serana kneeled down, legs either side of Natalie’s own, holding the elf still. She softly cupped Natalie’s cheeks, halting the rapid movement of her head. “It’s alright, you’re safe. Focus on me. Focus on my voice.”

Natalie’s eyes gradually slowed their movement, regaining some clarity of the woman currently straddled over her legs. “S… Serana? I can’t do it, not again. He’ll kill me this time. I can’t kill him. I’m not strong like I was then. I’m weak.”

“Weak? Natalie, you’re the strongest person I know.” Serana searched Natalie’s eyes for a solution to this fear, “Who are you?”

“What?” Natalie’s mind raced for an answer, completely baffled by the question.

“I said, who are you?” Serana repeated herself, hoping she could pull off her idea.

“Natalie.”

“No. I said, WHO. ARE. YOU?” She emphasised each word with a poke to Natalie’s chest.

Natalie’s mind continued its desperate pace, searching for an answer to this mysterious question. If she wasn’t Natalie, who was she? The pieces abruptly fell into place. “The Last Dragonborn.”

“And what do Dragonborn do?” A small smile edged out onto Serana’s face. Valerica’s eyes widened at this revelation. Serana had found the one being that could help them. This small elf was the key to freeing her from this prison.

“Kill dragons.”

“And what’s out there right now, waiting to be vanquished?”

“A dragon” Natalie’s mind slowed, gaining a semblance of control once more.

“And what are you going to do about that?”

Natalie regained complete clarity in her mind, now utterly focused on the task at hand. “I’m going to kill it. I’m going to bring it down from the sky and show that beast its heart.”

Serana helped Natalie back to her feat, now confident the elf would do as she said. Natalie marched assertively to the barrier Valerica had conjured, disappointed at the lack of challenge the undead on the other side would pose.

Valerica eyed the elf, unsure of the new title she’d learned of, “You’re Dragonborn?”

Natalie turned, the fury of battle burning in her eyes, “You’re god damn right I am.” She swung her head back around, “ _FUS RO DAH!_ ” The barrier shattered under the impact, throwing all the undead back. Natalie raised one hand, tattoos burning down her right arm, every undead wreathed in flames immediately.

Natalie calmly walked past their smouldering corpses, finding her target in the sky. “DURNEHVIIR! COME AND FACE ME! I DEFEATED ALDUIN, AND YOU’LL DIE BY MY HAND AS WELL!” She breathed in, “ _JOOR ZAH FRUL!_ ” Her Shout brought the dragon crashing into the arena once more, Natalie drawing her ebony shortsword and assuming a battle stance.

The two dragons earth-shattering roars signalled the start of their battle. Both began their stampede at the other, rapidly closing the distance. Natalie’s feet hit the ground hard, sprinting at her foe. Durnehviir’s wings and feet clawed it, almost bounding at his foe.

_Watch for the wing. Slide under. Bring the sword up. Get back on your feet. Jump, gain the high ground. Stab down. Remove, lightning._

Natalie predicted the other dragon’s movements, waiting for the typical strike with the wing. It came, as it always did, Natalie instantly falling backwards and using her speed to slide under the blow. She brought her sword vertical, slicing the membrane from almost the bone holding it, all the way to the edge. With one attack, Natalie had removed his ability to fly. She regained her feet easily, soaring onto Durnehviir’s back. She thrust her sword down as hard as she could, embedding it straight through the dragon’s tough exterior all the way to the hilt. She moved the metal back and forth, widening the wound on the dragon’s already decaying body. Removing the blade, she shoved her gauntlet into the wound, pouring her power through it. Lightning rushed through the undead beast, reaching every corner of him.

Durnehviir’s roar was ear-piercing, so frustrated at being injured by the tiny thing astride his back. He twisted his body, shaking Natalie free of him. The tail of the mighty beast struck the ground, his whole body twisting with the impact. It sent Natalie flying into the air, helplessly ascending before beginning to plummet back to the ground.

Or so Durnehviir thought. Natalie only smiled as she gained altitude and took an arc over the enemy’s head, a plan already falling into place as the air rushed through her hair. She oriented herself so she was facing the ground and her foe’s body. She brought her right arm back in preparation. It whipped forward, her shortsword cutting through the air to once more entrench into Durnehviir’s body, right in the centre of his back. As it sliced through, Natalie built up more lightning in her hands, the sky itself responding to her might. She released, her magic tracking the sword like a beacon. The sky lit up with its own flash, the clap of thunder the only warning of what was to come.

The clouds of the Soul Cairn itself released its own attack, narrowly passing Natalie to combine with her magic and striking the sword with all of its terrible strength. Durnehviir’s entire body lit up, his being charged with so much energy as to look like the sun. Natalie released her hold over her magic, the clouds above ceasing their assault at the same moment. Durnehviir gave one last pained cry before his body collapsed, any sign of life disappearing from his eyes.

Natalie dropped, cracking the ground when she landed on both feet. Dust swept over the arena with the force of her landing, but she did not sustain any damage from her fall. She casually walked forward, climbing over the now still corpse of her foe and removed her sword, sheathing it and moving to stand in front of her enemy, waiting for the soul to rush into her body.

The dragon’s corpse began the usual sequence that Natalie had seen before. The body lit itself on fire, pieces floating away on an unseen breeze. Durnehviir’s bones did the same, an event Natalie had only seen once before, upon Alduin’s defeat. A purple energy rose up from the corpse, in stark contrast to the gold that Natalie had known countless times. It flowed towards the Dragonborn, as it always did. The similarities to other dragons’ deaths ended there.

The moment the energy touched Natalie, she was thrown head over heels into the air, flipping over and over before landing heavily on her back and sliding away. A yelp upon impact with the ground and a subsequent groan were the only noises Natalie could make, her breath completely knocked out of her. She watched in confusion as the remnants of Durnehviir’s soul rose to the sky, before rushing away in the direction that Serana and her had entered the fort. “That’s new.”

Natalie raised herself into a sitting position, cracking her joints and healing the minor bruising from her impact with the ground. She saw mother and daughter approaching her, “What was that?”

Valerica eyed Natalie wish astonishment, “Volumes written on Durnehviir allege that he can’t be slain by normal means. It appears they were mistake. Unless…”

“Normally I’d absorb a dragon’s soul on its death. He’s… different. When it touched me, I could feel my own soul respond, reach out.”

Valerica nodded, “The soul of a dragon is as resilient as its owner’s scaly hide. It’s possible that your killing blow merely displaced Durnehviir’s physical form while he reconstitutes himself.”

“I’ve never come across an undead dragon before now.” Natalie scratched her head as she rose from the ground, “The same rules probably don’t apply to him. I’m the only one capable of actually killing a dragon, and I didn’t absorb his soul, so it stands to reason that he’s still alive. It just depends how long it takes for him to regenerate.”

“That could take anywhere from minutes to years. He’s never been defeated in all the time I’ve been here. I suggest we don’t wait around to see how long it takes him to get back on his feet. Now, let’s get your Elder Scroll and you can be on your way.”

Valerica led the way to a room at the rear of the arena, lowering the barrier protecting its entry with a wave of her hand. Natalie entered with her, Serana choosing to remain in the entrance. Valerica opened an ornate box, a spell unlocking a complicated mechanism, to reveal the Scroll. She picked it up with great reverence, holding it out for Natalie to take. The elf slung it over her shoulder, preparing to leave.

“Now that you’ve retrieved the Elder Scroll, you should be on your way. If there’s anything I can do before you depart, you must let me know.” Her eyes tracked to Serana, her daughter immediately looking away from her mother.

Natalie saw the interaction, choosing to make no comment on it, “You’re staying here? Surely you’d want to leave after all this time?”

Valerica sighed, rubbing at her eyes, “I have no choice. As I told you before, I’m a Daughter of Coldharbour. If I return to Tamriel, that increases Harkon’s likelihood of brining the Tyranny of the Sun to fruition. I don’t think I could stop him now if he came for me.”

“We could use your help in Tamriel.” Natalie didn’t want to say it, but felt she had to, in some way open the possibility of fixing Valerica and her daughter’s relationship.

“As much as it pains me to send you and Serana back alone, I can’t take the risk.” Valerica looked once more at Serana, “But, Serana is all I care about.”

Natalie resigned herself to being unable to convince Valerica to come with them, “We may never return to this place."

"After what I’ve put Serana through, I would understand if she never wished to see me again. I leave the decision in your hands.”

“It’s not mine to make, Valerica.”

Valerica knew Natalie was right, her eyes falling to the ground, “Remember that Harkon is not to be trusted. No matter what he promises, he’ll deceive you in order to get what he wants. And promise me you’ll keep my daughter safe. She’s the only thing of value I have left.”

“She watches my back, I watch hers. We’ll both keep each other safe.”

The vampire matriarch gave a weak smile, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure you can’t come back to Tamriel? Even if Harkon fails?”

“The only way I’d even consider returning to Tamriel was if Harkon were not only to fail, but to be destroyed utterly.”

“You hate him that much?”

“It’s not my hatred for him. You must understand that he’s no longer the man I married all that time ago. He’s obsessed… insane. Everyone around him fears him as they would a rabid dog. For all of this to end, he must die.”

“If…” Natalie reconsidered her words, “When that comes to pass, maybe we’ll come back.”

Valerica nodded, “Thank you. Even if you don’t come back, thank you for helping my daughter in her time of need.” She bowed slightly to Natalie, the elf surprised but returning the gesture with no hesitation, “Farewell, Dragonborn.”

“Farewell, Lady Valerica.” Natalie exited the room, leaving an awkward silence between Serana and Valerica.

Valerica tried several times to think of any words that may placate her daughter’s rage, but couldn’t think of anything. She likely never would. “Serana… I am truly sorry for what I did. I know you more than likely will never forgive me, but if there’s anything I can ever do… I would do all of it, for you.”

Serana sincerely wanted to forgive her mother in that moment, but couldn’t quell the anger or sadness upon thinking about what this woman had put her through. She instead nodded, and replied simply, “Goodbye, Mother. When father is defeated… I may return.”

Valerica nodded, “I only ask for a chance. Farewell, daughter.”

Serana spun on her heel and marched out of the room, wiping away a few tears that had sprung unbidden to her eyes. She joined Natalie in the arena, motioning that it was time to leave. They fell into step and left the fort together.

The two women barely made it a few metres out of the fort before a deep rumbling shook their surroundings. Without warning, the spectral form of Durnehviir crashed down in front of them. Natalie drew her bow, igniting the arrow with fire, while Serana conjured two ice spears.

“Stay your weapons.” The dragons voice rumbled over them, “I would speak with you, _Qahnaarin_.”

Natalie cautiously lowered her bow, letting the string return to its natural position, “I thought you might stay dead.”

“Cursed, not dead. Doomed to exist in this form for all eternity. Trapped between _laas_ and _dinok_ , between life and death.”

“Why do you want to speak with me?”

“I believe in civility among seasoned warriors, and I find your ear worthy of my words. My claws have rended flesh from innumerable foes, but I have never once been felled on the field of battle. I therefore honour-name you ‘ _Qahnaarin_ ,’ or Vanquisher in your tongue.”

Natalie inclined her head in gratitude, “I found you equally worthy.”

“Your words do me great honour. My desire to speak with you was born from the result of our battle, _Qahnaarin_. I merely wish to respectfully ask a favour of you.”

The elf raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the dragon’s motives, “What kind of favour are we talking about here?”

“For countless years, I’ve roamed the Soul Cairn, in unintended service to the Ideal Masters. Before this, I roamed the skies above Tamriel. I desire to return there.”

“You seem to be capable of moving, so what’s stopping you?”

Durnehviir sighed, “I fear that my time here has taken its toll on me. I share a bond with this dreaded place. If I ventured far from the Soul Cairn, my strength would begin to wane until I was no more.”

“Okay, but how do I fit into this?”

“I will place my name with you and grant you the right to call  from Tamriel. Do me this simple honour and I will fight at your side as your _Grah-Zeymahzin_ , your ally, and teach you my Thu’um.”

“Easy enough. That’s all?”

“Trivial in your mind, perhaps. For me, it would mean a great deal. I don’t require an answer, _Qahnaarin_. Simply speak my name to the heavens when you feel the time is right.” Durnehviir’s energy appeared in a shroud around him, flowing into Natalie ever so slightly. She felt new understanding of the dragon and the words now hummed at the tip of her tongue, ready to summon him at any time.

Natalie took a step forward to leave, but stopped herself, “One question before we leave.” The dragon nodded, listening intently, “Why call me _Qahnaarin_? Why not _Dovahkiin_? Every other dragon, including Alduin himself called me nothing else.”

Durnehviir leaned even closer, nearly touching Natalie with his ghostly snout, “I call you _Qahnaarin_ because it is your right. _Dovahkiin_ is what you are by birth, not what you have earned. You have bested me on the field of battle. Besting a fellow _Dovah_ earns you the title _Qahnaarin_. It would be an insult to your honour to call you anything else.” Durnehviir moved backwards slightly, thinking over what he said next, “I was surprised to hear that it was you who defeated Alduin. I knew he had been slain, but not that it had been by a _Dovahkiin_. I thank you for that feat. He did not encourage my study of _Alok-Dilon_ , necromancy. His arrogance knew no bounds in the end.”

“Well at least you weren’t allied with him. Then I would have to find a way to vanquish you permanently.”

The dragon chuckled, “I have no doubt you would find a way. Until we meet again, _Qahnaarin_.”

“Farewell, Durnehviir.”

The dragon took flight and was soon out of sight, leaving Natalie and Serana alone.

“Ready to go?”

Serana started walking straight away, “I’ve had enough of this place to last a lifetime. Considering my lifespan, that’s got to tell you something.”

The two vampires made it back to the portal to Tamriel, quickly climbing the stairs and leaving the realm of souls, the Soul Cairn, behind.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 10:30am, 27 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Castle Volkihar Laboratory**

 

Upon exiting the portal into the Soul Cairn, it promptly closed itself, the stone pieces shifting back into place and stopping their glow.

Natalie broke the silence between the two, “That was eventful.”

Serana frowned at her comment, “One way of putting it. At least we got the Elder Scroll.”

“One more to go then. Though, I’ve got an idea before we go get it.”

Serana raised an eyebrow, “And what would that be?”

Natalie smirked, “I think we could both use a drink. Solitude isn’t very far away. The tavern is nice there.”

Serana smiled, glad for a distraction from what they’d just gone through, “Solitude it is then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	10. Bloodlust

**Morndas, 11:30am, 27 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Castle Volkihar Dock**

 

The two vampires exited the castle to blinding sunlight. Natalie felt the sun piercing her skin like needles, momentarily backing into the shadows. She pulled her hood up, wrapping the cloak tighter around herself. Even through the thick cloth, the sun still made its presence known. It didn’t burn like she thought it might at least. Climbing into the boat, her foot was exposed for less than a second, a hiss of pain escaping through her teeth.

“This is going to get annoying.” Natalie grumbled to herself.

“You get used to it, stay covered up as much as you can.” Serana took the oars from Natalie, rowing the boat out into the sea. Natalie tried to take one, Serana lightly pushing her hand away. Her protests were stopped with a simple raised hand, “Maybe until you get used to it, I'll do the rowing.”

Natalie nodded, drawing her hand back into the cloak to hide it. She stuck her gauntlet out slightly, glad to find that she could feel no pain through it.

_Ah, that should be useful._

“What?” Natalie looked up to Serana, only finding a questioning look on her face.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did, you said it should be useful. What should be?”

Serana looked intently into Natalie’s eyes, “Are you okay? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah... must be hearing things over the water.”

Natalie shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She was sure she’d heard something. Must be her imagination. It was only her and Serana here, no ships visible for miles. But she was sure she had heard something.

_You did hear something_.

There it was again. She’d been looking at Serana the whole time, her lips hadn't even moved. And it didn’t sound like her voice. Too low, too grating.

_It’s going to be fun, getting to know the dark places of your mind._

Natalie focused on her gauntlet, silencing this invading voice for the moment. Serana could see something was wrong, but the middle of the sea was not the place to sort it out.

They soon reached the dock they’d borrowed the boat from, its owner standing at the end. His eyes widened and he quickly backed away when he saw who it was who’d borrowed it. Serana tied the boat to the dock, helping Natalie out. The elf stumbled forward, Serana catching her arm to stop her from falling. Natalie’s vision swam in front of her, quickly righting itself

“Natalie.” She looked up at a frown creasing Serana’s face. “What’s wrong? You're not alright.”

“Hungry.” Natalie rubbed her stomach. “Very hungry.”

Serana fished in the bag at her waist, pulling out a small vial of viscous red liquid. “Here, you’ll feel better.”

Natalie pulled the stopper out of the vial, sniffing at it, unsure of its contents. A stern look from Serana encouraged her to empty it down her throat. It was possibly the worst thing she’d ever tasted. She coughed and spluttered once it had gone down, gasping for breath at the taste. “Ugh, that’s disgusting.”

“Feel better though?”

Strangely, Natalie did feel better, despite the liquid’s foul taste. “Much... that’s one of those potions your mother invented right?”

Serana nodded, letting go of Natalie’s arm as the elf straightened up and stretched her arms out above her.

_You’re going to need more than that._

Natalie’s arms froze in midair. She knew that wasn’t Serana’s voice. Now that her mind had cleared from the hunger, she could tell them apart. It sounded like it was from her inner voice, but she hadn’t thought about anything. She slowly lowered her arms, the burn of the sun on her bare right arm not as bad as before. “I think I could really use that drink now.” Natalie grinned wide; her fangs slightly exposed.

Serana raised her hand to Natalie’s face, but stopped just short of touching her, “Best to not show all your teeth now. Gives it away a bit. What with the fangs and all.”

Natalie let the grin fade slightly, her mouth closing but lips still curling up at the edges, “Good advice. Wouldn’t want everyone to know.”

_Why not? Let them be afraid of you. Let them know your power. What you could do to them without even trying._

The elf’s brow creased, trying to block the voice out of her mind. She walked up to the fisherman’s house, knocking on the door loudly. “Your boat’s back! Thanks for letting us borrow it again. Might need it once more, so don’t go too far.” No answer from the inside, but Natalie’s new hearing could hear the man’s heavy breathing from within the house. She heard what sounded like a sword being drawn from a scabbard and backed away from the door.

She only got a few steps away from the door before it was thrown open. She stopped in her tracks, waiting for what the man would do. “That’s enough! Who are you to just steal my boat whenever you feel like it?! I’m putting an end to this right now!”

Natalie heard the sword whistling towards her head. Faster than the man could see, she spun around, catching the sword in her gauntlet, stopping it in midair. The man struggled to push it further, and when that failed, could not wrench it from Natalie’s iron grip. She thrust her palm forward, striking the man in the chest. He went flying, colliding with his house and cracking the timber wall.

_Good, good. Now end him. Show him you are not one to be trifled with._

Natalie shook her head, looking down at her hands. Why had she hit the man? She could’ve just as easily disarmed him and been on her way. She hadn’t meant to hit him. He hadn’t done anything this time. Grasping the hilt with her right hand and blade with her left, Natalie snapped the blade over her knee, tossing the pieces near the man. He was dazed, likely having struck his head on the house.

Serana put her hand on Natalie’s shoulder, leading her away from the house, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” Serana called for Shadowmere, helping Natalie into the saddle and holding the reins either side of the elf.

After a short distance, Natalie came back to her senses, “I… I didn’t mean to do that. Why did I do that?”

Serana gave the answer in the simplest way she could, “We vampires feel our emotions far more strongly than normal people. We can also… lose control. It doesn’t take long to master the ability to keep yourself in check, you’ll get there.”

The more experienced vampire’s word did little to calm Natalie’s nerves. She’d only ever lost control like that in extreme situations. The man had been the furthest thing from a threat. Even if she wasn’t newly enhanced with vampiric strength and speed, she could’ve easily dodged his sword and been able to disarm him.

_But didn’t it feel good? All that strength, put through in a single strike. You could’ve killed him. You SHOULD have killed him. He is beneath you now._

Natalie ignored the voice as best she could. The notions it put in her head were evil. She had to resist them. She would not break. Ever.

_We all break. It just depends upon how far we bend before the inevitable SNAP!_

Sleep. Sleep would do her good. Maybe the voice would go away. Natalie leant back into Serana, closing her eyes and emptying her mind.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 10:20pm, 27 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Road to Solitude**

 

Shadowmere walked slowly up the hill towards Solitude. Serana had kept the mare at a slow pace to give Natalie as much time as she needed to rest. She remembered her own turning, it had taxed her of all her strength for almost a week, and Natalie had fought and defeated an undead dragon almost immediately after turning. She couldn’t imagine what that must’ve done to her already overstretched stamina. The transformation from mortal to vampire was not a pleasant one. Natalie’s had been far less… invasive than Serana’s, but the toll on the individual’s stamina was the same.

Serana gently nudged Natalie awake, the elf slowly gaining her bearings. As soon as she was aware of where they were, she rapidly leaned forward and cast an enchantment over Shadowmere’s eyes, concealing their demonic red from any curious passersby.

“You should’ve woken me up. Shadowmere scares the shit out of most people.”

“But their faces were priceless. Even got a few whispers of ‘Demon Horse!’”

Serana’s joking tone only caused Natalie to sigh, rubbing at her eyes. “Keeping a low profile doesn’t suit you, does it?”

“It’s not like I’m shouting to the world, ‘Hey, I’m Serana, ancient vampire come to kill you!’”

“That doesn’t bring me as much comfort as you think it does.” Natalie saw they were half way up to the Solitude gates, “How about we walk from here? Don’t have to pay for Shadowmere to get into the stables then.”

“Only if she says it's alright.” The mare whinnied her response. “Um… not actually sure what I was expecting. And unfortunately, I don’t speak horse.”

Natalie giggled, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. I’ve left her in much worse conditions than this. And she always comes back.”

They both jumped down from the saddle, Natalie slapping Shadowmere’s rump and sending the horse galloping away.

_What a faithful steed. A shame you can’t keep any other friends._

Natalie had hoped the voice would stop if she slept. She rubbed at her temples, trying to focus on anything but the foreign presence in her mind. She walked on ahead, Serana quickly catching up to her. The guards at the first checkpoint into the city payed no attention to the two hooded women passing, despite how heavily armed they were. Natalie suddenly realized she’d left the Elder Scroll in the open over her shoulder, but when she looked, there was nothing there.

_Now that an unfortunate loss, isn't it?_

“Where is it?! How the hell did I lose an Elder Scroll?”

Serana moved in front of her placing her hands on her shoulders, Natalie’s eyes focusing onto the vampire’s face. “It’s okay, I took it off you, it’s hidden under my cloak with the other one.”

Natalie put her hand on her chest, trying to still her rapidly beating heart. “Well, heart attack averted then.” They continued their path up to the gates of the city proper.

“Halt! State your business in Solitude.” The guard’s shout interrupted the silence of the night.

Natalie stood up straight, puffed her chest out and pulled her hood down, staring down the guard, “I am Thane of Solitude. Stand aside. Now.”

_Such authority! How wonderful you know how to use something of this gift!_

The guard rolled his eyes at Natalie. “A Wood Elf? Thane of Solitude? Go back to your woods.”

The other guard smacked the offending man over the head, “Are you trying to get yourself killed? That’s the Dragonborn! She could end you with her voice.” He turned back to Natalie, “Sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, I'll make sure he knows better next time.”

“S s sorry.” The guard managed to stammer out, gawking at the Wood Elf he’d insulted.

Natalie moved herself too fast for the guards to see, standing right in front of the guard who’d insulted her, “Mark sure he does... or there won't be a next time.” Her eyes briefly flashed red, the guard’s eyes widening even further than they already were.

The elf shouldered past the guard, almost sending him to the ground. Serana quickly followed, averting her face from the guards. They could both hear the guards’ whispers as they strode into the city, “How did you know who she was? I thought she was dead.”

“Do you want to be the one to tell two heavily armed people they can’t come in? Is that really your plan? Besides, my grandad saw her once. And that elf looked exactly like he described.”

_It’s funny what lies people will tell themselves. Especially when talking about their betters._

Natalie began to turn around, but Serana put her arm around her shoulders, leading her further into the city, “How about that drink you promised me?”

The two women moved through the city, quickly finding themselves in the tavern. Serana found a table in a quiet, dark corner, Natalie quickly finding her with two tankards of ale. Serana sipped at it, finding the drink passable, but on a far lesser level than what she was used to living in a castle. It completely paled in comparison with fresh blood, but she assumed that wouldn’t be on the menu in a place like this.

Natalie was far more impressed with the drink. The first taste was like nothing she’d ever had. Every flavour was enhanced, far beyond what she was expecting. Fruits, the grain and even the water itself at its base tasted better than before her turning. A smile spilled onto her face before she drained half of it in one go.

Serana laughed, pushing Natalie’s arm back down, “Slow down! You’ll choke yourself.”

“This is amazing. It’s so much better than before!”

_There’s something even better._

Natalie’s smile faded slightly, a clue as to who was speaking to her falling into place. Serana saw the downturn in the elf’s expression, reaching across the table and lacing her fingers with Natalie’s. “Are you sure everything’s alright? I know there’s been something bothering you since we left the castle.”

“I…” Before Natalie could respond, a drunk patron of the tavern ambled up to their table, pulling a chair up uninvited.

“What are two beeaaauutiful laadies like yourselves doing here all alooooone?” Natalie could smell the ale on his breath.

_He looks like he could be fun._

“Go away if you know what’s good for you.” Natalie’s tone brokered no argument, but the drunk persisted.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I’ve never had me an elf. Help a fella out? Your frieenndd can come too, make it a party.”

_That’s how you let people talk to you? Maybe the gift should be taken away._

Natalie suspicions were proven correct. The voice was none other than Molag Bal.

_You figured it out! I’m disappointed in you, Dragonborn. You don’t use what’s given to you. All this power, and you do nothing. This man has insulted you. Do what must be done._

“Shut up.” Natalie’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, only Serana catching what she’d said. The tankard began to creak as her grip tightened, the metal giving way under her might.

The man invaded Natalie’s personal space, touching the ends of her hair, “I didn’t caaatch that… come back to my place, we can chat all yoooouuu want.”

_Nothing? Really? It would be so easy. Let the power in! USE IT! KILL HIM! KILL THEM ALL!_

Serana was about to get rid of the man before Natalie exploded, crushing the tankard in her grasp, “I SAID, SHUT UP!” Her yell echoed in the tavern, the loud noise of the patrons falling silent. Natalie stood, her chair flying back, her gauntlet gripping the man’s throat and lifting him from the ground. Her right hand balled up in a fist threatening to break him.

His eyes bulged from his head, while Natalie’s burned red, unable to keep her vampiric powers in check. Her breathing was heavy in her own ears, tightening her grip around the piece of meat in her hands. Her mouth hung open; fangs extended slightly. Just one bite. That’s all she needed. Just. _One_. **_Bite_**.

The new vampire began the agonising path to the man’s throat, savouring every last moment of his fear. Serana grabbed her arm, briefly distracting her. “Natalie. That’s enough.”

Natalie’s eyes found Serana’s, soft and worried despite Natalie’s near murder of an innocent man. She loosened her grip, the drunk gasping for air as he collapsed to the floor. Her eyes returned to their normal green, staring at her hands, then at the shocked patrons. Every gaze was fixed on her, unsure of what they should do. Natalie decided for them. She marched to the door, slamming it open and walking out into the night.

Serana exited the tavern, spying Natalie walking toward the now closed main gate. The guards tried to stop her, “I’m sorry ma’am, gates closed for the night. Have to wait till morning.”

Natalie hadn’t heard him, staring down at her hands. She didn’t even stop walking, simply shouting once she was close enough, “ _FUS!_ ” The gates slammed open, the wood cracking from the force. Serana hurriedly caught up, apologising to the guards. Before she could halt her progress, Natalie shouted once more, “ _WULD NAH KEST!_ ” Natalie thundered down the hill, immediately disappearing into the darkness, out of sight of the guards.

Serana looked between the two men outside the gates, staring after the elf who had seemingly teleported away from them. If they’d seen one impossible thing, surely a second wouldn’t be so strange. Serana sprinted after Natalie, far faster than a mortal should’ve been able to. The guards barely noticed her.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 11:50pm, 27 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**River, South of Solitude**

 

Serana finally caught up to Natalie a significant distance away from Solitude. She’d had to rely on the obvious tracks the elf had left, her head start being significant enough that Serana’s keen eyesight was of no use.

Natalie sat on the river bank, head between her knees, staring into the water. Serana slowly approached, quietly sitting down next to her companion. The reflection of Natalie’s face told Serana all she needed to know. Natalie’s eyes were rapidly switching between their natural green and a deep blood red, the white all but disappearing with the changes. Her skin was pulled back around her cheekbones, far paler than it should have been for a person of Natalie’s complexion.

Natalie turned to Serana, tears having left obvious marks down her cheeks, “I can’t control this. It’s too much.”

Serana wrapped an arm around Natalie’s shoulders, pulling her closer until the she leaned her head on Serana’s shoulder. She gently ran her hand through Natalie’s hair, soothing her. “I believe in you Natalie. It took me a while to get it too. Trust me, you’ll be fine.” Serana wasn’t sure this was the right time to ask, but felt she had to, “Natalie… what were you going to say before we left Solitude?”

Natalie’s whole body stiffened at the question. She wasn’t prepared to give the answer, but felt she owed Serana an explanation. “I… ever since we left the castle, he won’t shut up.”

“Who?”

Natalie gave the answer Serana dreaded, “Molag Bal.” Natalie knew this wasn’t what Serana wanted to hear. “He hasn’t got control, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I doubt he could control you.” Serana was deeply trouble by Natalie’s admission. What was Bal’s plan? Why keep whispering in Natalie’s mind? She’d already been turned, what purpose could his actions have?

“I need control. I can’t just explode every time someone slightly pisses me off.” Natalie reached down into the water, splashing her face, glad for the cold it brought.

“What you need, is to eat.”

Natalie stared blankly at Serana, “You could’ve said something at the tavern, I would’ve got-” Serana’s forceful stare caused Natalie’s realisation, “Oh... you mean... oh.”

Serana nodded, knew that this conversation would come up. “You’re a vampire now. You need blood to survive. Without it, you get symptoms like you’ve been experiencing.” She paused for a moment, trying to think of a way to make it sound more palatable. “It’s not that dissimilar to what you did as a werewolf is it?”

Natalie’s face paled even further, something Serana didn’t think would’ve been possible, “I guess not. But I never remembered-” she swallowed heavily, “-eating... people. It was always after the fact. That was the beast, not me. I could separate them. But now... I'll remember it.”

Serana got to her feet, holding her hand out for Natalie. “I’ll help you.”

Natalie reluctantly took the waiting hand and allowed Serana to lead her away from the river.

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 1:30am, 28 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**Abandoned Fort, South of Solitude**

 

Serana led Natalie through a forest to a fort, crawling with bandits. They hid some distance away in the trees, spying patrols on the walls. Serana had the idea that taking a bandit for Natalie to feed on would make her feel better about her new requirement than if it was some random villager they could snatch.

Natalie had managed to gain a semblance of control over her powers, her eyes now fixed to green. Serana could see beads of sweat travelling down the elf’s forehead, only her willpower keeping the hunger in check. She needed to feed soon or it would consume her from the inside before she was nothing more than a raging beast, incapable of any rational thought.

Serana motioned to Natalie, urging her to follow. They crept closer to the fort, careful to stick to the shadows of the trees where possible. Luckily for them, the trees ran right up to the walls, so they were able to get all the way there without even a hint of the possibility that they would be seen. Serena leant over to Natalie, lips almost touching her ear, whispering as quietly as she could, “There’s one directly above us. If we can scale up, we should be able to take him without anyone noticing.”

Her breath tickled Natalie’s skin, sending an almost pleasant shiver down her spine. Natalie craned her head up, the bandit’s loud, heavy breathing felt like a weight on her ears. It would be a simple thing to climb the short wall, grab him silently and make off into the forest with her prize. Natalie nodded, not daring to speak lest she lost what little control she had left. She gripped a crack in the stone, beginning the climb up. With each hand or foot moved, Natalie was afraid the man would hear her and raise the alarm. She needed to get this over with quickly, and get back to the mission at hand.

Natalie’s gauntlet slipped, scraping the stone, a deafening sound to Natalie. She froze, halfway up the wall. Natalie squeezed her eyes shut, held her breath, waiting for the inevitable sound of alarm.

It never came. The guard didn’t notice his impending death right below him. Natalie felt like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest. She could feel it in her throat, demanding she continue with this daring plan. She scaled the last few feet, now directly below the guard. His breathing was even louder. Natalie could hear his heart beat. Pumping that sweet, sanguine nourishment she needed.

Natalie breathed out slowly. Preparing for the final movement. She thrust herself up, perching herself on the ramparts, clamping her gauntlet over the guard’s mouth. She gripped hard, feeling the bones in his jaw bend ever so slightly. His hands flew up to pry at her fingers, not even coming close to the strength that would be needed to loosen her hold on him. Natalie brought her right hand to her lips, holding her index finger over them. She allowed some control to slip, twin blood red orbs shining in the guard’s face. The elf tilted forward, mouth right next to his ear, “Make a sound, and this becomes painful. Stay quiet and I might just let you live another day. Understand?” His response was immediate, energetically nodding.

Natalie loosened her grip, waiting for the scream he would inevitably give. She was surprised when he kept his promise, rubbing his jaw, but otherwise making no sound or attempt to get away. Maybe he was smart enough to know he wouldn’t get far. Natalie grabbed the edge of his armoured tunic, lifting him clear over the ramparts. She could hear his pulse quicken. Feel the vibrations through the air. She carefully made her way back down the wall with one hand, making sure not to let the man go with the other.

The bandit looked between the two women now standing in front of him. His eyes flitted from the weapons strapped to their bodies, to either side, searching for an escape route. Natalie was behind him in a flash, cutting off any chance of escape from there. Serana stood in front, fast enough to cut him off from anything he tried. He resigned himself to his fate, falling to his knees.

Natalie took the opportunity, moving his tunic out of the way and exposing his neck. She let go of the careful control over her appearance, fangs extending, the whites of her eyes completely disappearing. Her breathing became ragged, barely holding onto the threads of her humanity. She bent down to his level, hovering over the flesh. Her fangs scraped over, lightly scratching the soft surface. Before she could talk herself out of it, Natalie closed her eyes and sunk her fangs in… and drank.

The taste. Sweet, sour, bitter, spicy, cool, hot and everything in between. It was indescribable. Her eyes flew open. This was without a doubt, the greatest meal she had ever had. Nothing even came close to this. The power she felt rushing through her veins was like nothing else. She could do anything. The blood burned and soothed her throat as she swallowed.

Natalie broke her promise to the man. He hadn’t made a single sound, but she kept drinking even as he tried to flail and stop her. His limbs slowed, sluggish at the unexpected loss of his life-giving fluid. More and more she swallowed, feeling her strength soaring. She closed her eyes, revelling in the euphoria the action gave.

Finally, his body stilled, completely drained. Natalie opened her mouth, the bandit slumping to the ground, his skin grey and eyes blank. Serana waited patiently for Natalie to calm herself. Her breathing slowed as she kneeled next to the first victim of her hunger. She rose, slowly rotating her head and cracking the stiff joints in her neck.

When she finally opened her eyes, all Serana saw was red. No white around the edge like before. A haze had descended over the elf’s vision, tinting everything with red. Without warning, Natalie ran at the wall, quickly scaling it and vanishing over the edge. “Oh no…” Serana slowly followed, unsure if she should stop Natalie now, or let this run its course.

_Make noise. Let them know you’re there. It’ll do them no good. It’ll just be more fun._

Natalie stopped on the ramparts, quickly scanning the entire fort. At least six guards on the walls, a few more in the courtyard, and several sleeping in tents spread around the place. Natalie took a running jump, landing in the centre of the fort’s courtyard. She looked to the sky, “ ** _FUS!_** ” Every bandit was alerted to Natalie’s presence. She stood, unafraid of the small army now arrayed against her.

The vampire turned in a circle, letting every man see her for what she was. She could see their faces grow pale, could hear their hearts beat faster, could smell their **FEAR**. She waited till she was surrounded. Every bandit ready to attack.

One strode out from the rest, the leader. His armour was of far higher quality, steel plate if Natalie had to guess. His sword and shield shined in the light of the small fires that dotted the fort. He pointed the sword, but the vampire could see it shake. He couldn’t look afraid in front of his men, but his body betrayed him. “Who dares to invade my fortress?”

Natalie cocked her head at the man, trying to decide how she would do it. Go straight for the throat? No, too quick. Play along with him? No, there would be no challenge. Humiliate him before quenching her thirst? There was the winning idea.

“Just a hungry traveller.” Natalie growled out at the man, her voice dripping with barely restrained bloodlust. “Won’t you help someone in need?”

The leader strode forward till he stood only a few metres from Natalie, “Get out… or I will kill you.”

Natalie displayed her fangs, “You can try.”

_Put your hand out, stop it. Push back. Pounce on him, throw over your head. Dodge the swings, catch the shield, take it. Throw it away, steal the sword, to his throat. Bite down._

He needed no further encouragement, quickly closing the gap between them and swinging his shield at the elf. Natalie calmly raised her hand, stopping the shield in its tracks with seemingly no effort. She pushed, sending the bandit stumbling back. As soon as he was back on his feet, Natalie was upon him, grabbing either side of his armoured chest plate, lifting him easily over her head. He hit the ground hard when the vampire threw him, rolling to a stop some distance away.

Some other bandits made to join the fight before stopping when he raised his hand. He shakily got to his feet, reclaiming his sword and shield from the ground near him. “She’s mine.” He yelled out, charging Natalie, shield raised in front of him. She sidestepped, ducking when his sword came swinging. With every swing of the sword, Natalie moved faster, the bandit unable to keep up with her vampiric speed. His shield swung in a wide arc, the edge aiming for Natalie’s head. She captured it in her gauntlet, ripping it from his arm, hurling it away. The metal disc imbedded itself in a wall, barely missing another of the bandits.

Natalie flipped backwards, taunting the man into attacking her again. She continued to prance away from him, his furious sword strokes coming nowhere close to striking her. When at last she’d had her fun, Natalie caught the sword’s blade, stealing it from his grip. In an instant, she’d spun him around onto his knees and held the sword to his throat, with exactly the right amount of force for a line of blood to appear underneath its edge.

The smell of the blood was intoxicating. Natalie began to pant, eager for her next meal. She put her mouth right next to his ear, whispering to him, “Nice try.” Natalie buried the blade hilt deep into the top of his shoulder, piercing straight through the steel. She ripped the steel away on the other side of his head, sinking her fangs into his neck. Warm blood filled her mouth, eagerly drunk.

She let go of the hilt of the sword, the body clattering to the ground, a pool of blood quickly forming around it. Natalie stepped through it, leaving red footprints as she moved forward into the line of sight of every bandit.

“WHO’S NEXT?!” An arrow flew towards her, Natalie waiting until the last moment before snatching it out of the air. She twirled it in her fingers before snapping it in half, throwing the pieces to the ground.

A few tense moments passed. Natalie watched carefully for any sign of attack. All at once, the bandits gave battle-cries, attacking as one. Arrows fired from the walls, Natalie flowing like water around the projectiles. The elf ran straight at an archer, soaring onto the ramparts near him.

_Duck. Pounce. Slash. Bite._

She ducked under the bandit’s bow, whistling over her head. She dove at him, tackling him to the ground and straddling his legs. Natalie swung her arms back and forth, slicing straight through his armour and the flesh beneath. Blood stained her limbs and armour, spraying out further the harder she swung. She hunched over, biting into his shoulder and ripping away at the flesh.

_Sprint. Grab head. Meet with ground. Crush._

The vampire sprinted along the wall, sidestepping the arrows of her next target. She snatched the bow from his hands, tossing it away. A look of surprise momentarily crossed his face, before Natalie’s hand covered it. She pushed forward, taking him off his feet and slamming his head into the ground. She continued to push, crushing his skull into the stone. One final forceful thrust, and the bone completely gave way, smearing the stone with gore.

Natalie continued along the ramparts, taking out every archer she came across. Her hands were a blur, making short bloody work of her victims. Every kill brought a new flavour, each sweeter than the last. Her arms were covered in blood up to her elbows. The bandits below with their melee weapons could only watch helplessly as their comrades were slaughtered in quick succession.

The ones still brave enough to face her climbed the stairs to her position, bellowing their anger at the culling of their friends.

_Right in the centre of the chest. Hand through, heart out._

The first to make it to her was the last to approach. Natalie batted his greatsword out of his hands, grabbing hold of his throat in her gauntlet. She straightened the fingers of her other hand out, placing them in the centre of the man’s chest. She pushed forward, armour giving way easily. She continued pushing, bone and flesh offering no resistance to her might. Her hand closed around the man’s heart even as he stared down into her eyes. The beat of the heart against her hand was exhilarating, heightening the satisfaction at the fear in this man. Natalie squeezed, wrenching his heart from its cage. Instantaneously, his body went limp, feet lightly striking the stone. She looked at the struggling heart in her hands, its frantic pulsing slowing, before stopping completely.

Natalie dropped the heart and its former prison, turning to the remaining, and now frozen, bandits. She ignited flames in her hands, illuminating her whole body and throwing shadows over the whole fort. She licked her top lip, running her tongue over her fangs at the same time, eliciting audible swallows from the men against her. Natalie held her hand out, motioning towards yourself, “Well? Give me your best shot.” She paused, “You know what? Why don’t we make this easier?” Natalie alighted down into the courtyard, once more below them. “There, you’ve got the high ground. I’ll even let you come to me.”

Two of the bandits ran inside the fort’s keep, shutting the door behind them. Natalie could hear them barricading the door with something heavy. She chuckled to herself at their stupidity. They’d just unknowingly made themselves easy targets. Only four remained outside with her. Through the darkness, she could see them tightening their grips on the weapons in their hands.

The first came down and circled her, Natalie remaining still. As soon as he was directly behind the elf, he charged, swinging the mace in his hand with everything he had. Natalie ducked, grabbing his arm and sending him flying over her head. The second managed to step out of the way of his body, going for a frontal assault on his vampiric enemy. She waited for his attack. His sword came from above, aiming for Natalie’s neck.

_Left arm up, right arm forward._

Natalie’s hand exploded out from his back, a choked gasp the only sound before the life left his eyes. She’d brought her gauntlet up, blocking and shattering his sword, while the other hand went straight through him. Natalie tossed the body behind her, slowing licking the blood from her fingers. The mace wielding bandit returned, trying his luck once more. In an instant, his mace was gone from his hand, Natalie’s gauntlet wrapped tightly around his throat. With a sickening snap, Natalie broke his neck, nonchalantly continuing to get the blood from her hand. His body joined his comrade’s behind the elf.

The last two bandits stared down Natalie, one wielding magic from on high, the other a war-hammer. Natalie turned her back to them, squatting down next to the bodies she’d just dispatched. She sunk her fangs into one of their arms, consuming all she could. She heard the swing of the hammer from behind her. Ignored it.

The giant of a man’s war-hammer hit her in the side of the chest. The vampire felt her ribs shatter under the force of the blow. She took flight, landing with a crunch and rolling till she was face down near the entrance of the fort. Her rolling had left a thick trail of blood in her wake. The man breathed heavily, couldn’t believe he’d got the hit in.

He took a few steps before his blood ran cold. A giggle rose from the still form of the vampire. It soon transformed into a maniacal cackle as she rose back to her feet. The bandit could see her ribs cracking back into place by themselves. She grinned at him, showing every tooth, completely covered in blood. Her cackle turned into raucous laughter; her mouth wide open as she clutched at her sides. “Really? You thought that would take me down?” She was in front of him in an instant, his war-hammer now in her iron grip. He looked at his hands. How had she taken it? “Let me show you how it’s done.” She immediately moved behind him, slamming the weapon into the back of his knees, quickly followed by a blow to his back, taking him off the ground. Natalie repeatedly brought the hammer down onto the man, turning him into a bloody pulp on the ground. Every hit spread the gore further and further, her laughter echoing through the fort.

Natalie’s ear pricked up at a sizzle of magic. Lightning hit her in the back. She stumbled forward. The elf slowly turned, finding the culprit. The last bandit realised what he’d done, but persevered, charging up all the magical energy he could to stop this monster. The hammer fell from her grasp, forgotten as she crouched down, ready to strike. “Ooohhh, you might be fun.”

She moved in time with the lightning strikes, the ground burning where she’d been less than a second before. Every time the man fired, she moved, closing the distance. The bandit couldn’t even see her move, looking to him like she was teleporting, moving in a zig zag pattern to him. Natalie was within range to leap onto him, but chose to move around him, amused at his feeble attempts to cast at her. The lightning became frantic, striking wider and wider of the elf’s position.

The magic charging the air gradually lessened, the bandit-mage unable to keep up with the vampire. Natalie sighed, spinning around the last strike. She moved in, grabbing his arms and holding them above his head, her grip tightening to break the bones within. His scream was like music to Natalie’s ears. His legs gave way under him, but didn’t fall, as he was held up by his useless appendages. “Mages these days... no respect for their superiors.”  A small charge of electricity pulsed through the bandit’s body; his mouth open in a silent scream to the heavens.

The bandit’s head lolled down, unable to keep it straight. “LOOK AT ME!” Natalie’s yell almost burst his ear drums, wincing in pain before doing as he was told. “Isn’t that better? Always good to look threats in the eye, don’t you think?” Natalie’s sweet smile did nothing to stop the fear from spreading to every corner of his brain. “You know what I am, correct?”

He barely managed to speak through the agony he felt from his shattered arms, “A m... monster.”

“Close enough to the truth, I suppose. Now, you’re going to tell me what’s inside that precious little keep of yours. Any special traps for yours truly? Any hidden surprises before I feast on your friends?”

The bandit struggled to lie to her, the effect of just her eyes getting to him, “No-” a squeeze from Natalie left him wheezing for air, “-yes... tripwires for rockfalls, and spikes from the floor.”

Natalie’s eyebrows creased down, her visage even more terrifying than before. “Lying to me was the last mistake you’ll ever make.”

“No, wait PLEASE!” Natalie bit into his throat, his pitiful attempts to stop her met with his arms being crushed even further. His vision began to darken, the pain unlike anything he’d ever felt. But strangely, there was a peacefulness to it. Pain faded away, replaced with... nothing. He could see his own blood dripping from her lips as she pulled away. The last thing he saw was Natalie’s eyes, beautiful in their own way. Still the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen, but beautiful.

The elf stood up, looking to the door to her last targets. She knocked on it, hearing a scurrying from behind. “Always more fun when they struggle.” Natalie charged small fireballs in her hands, taking a few steps away from the door. She altered the fire to explode upon impact, combining the two small orbs into one in front of her. She brought her right hand back, hurling the magic as hard as he could. The sphere connected with the door, the explosion rocking the foundations of the keep itself.

Natalie strode through the smoke and debris, eyes quickly adjusting to the dark interior. The two final bandits stood on the opposite side of the room, next to the stairs leading further up into the tower. Both fired arrows at her. Both were caught out of the air and tossed aside. “You might as well just give up now. Fighting me is just dumb.” To prove her threat, she rushed across the room, avoiding every trap on the ground, completely bypassing their first line of defence. She took one of the bandits by the throat and slammed him into the wall.  Drops of blood flew from his mouth as he writhed against Natalie’s grip. She turned her head to pierce the other with her gaze, even as his companion clutched at Natalie’s gauntlet, her whisper deafening, “I think that’s your queue to run.” She speared the man’s chest with her hand until it went through the stone on the other side, his flailing limbs falling limp.

The bandit took Natalie’s advice, sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. Her cackling followed him up, even as he could hear her ripping his companion apart. He burst into the room at the top, throwing the door closed behind him and moving as many pieces of furniture in front of the door as he could.

Natalie finished with the bandit, tossing his mangled corpse aside and wiping the blood from her face. She strolled up the stairs, careful to step over the tripwires the bandits had so thoughtfully set up. She came to a heavy wooden door, the last man’s breathing heavy on her ears. She reared back, throwing her fist forward and punching the wood. It splintered, but did not open as she had expected. She punched again with the same result. Fire in this small a space would likely cause injury to herself, so magic was not an option. Natalie took a few steps away from the door. She ran, jumped and put her shoulder to it, finally breaking through, pushing the furniture pressed up against it out of the way.

The man’s screams reverberated through the keep as he cowered on the other side of the room. The force of her entry had extinguished the small candles that had provided some light to the dingy room. The moon from outside did nothing to illuminate them. All he saw was three sources of red light. Glowing red spheres getting closer with every passing second. The glow from her gauntlet approaching furthering the overwhelming fear.

Natalie strutted forward till she was towering over the man. The final morsel in the banquet. He wouldn’t put up much of a fight, paralysed with terror as he was. The perfect dessert. The elf seized his tunic, dragging him to the centre of the room. She drew her Daedric dagger, the first weapon she’d use in this entire escapade. Without warning, she impaled one of his hands to the ground and before he could react, impaled his other hand with her Dragonbone one. His shrieks of agony fed Natalie’s hunger.

Natalie crouched over the man’s head, softly stroking the side of his face, “I’ve decided I’m going to have a little fun with you. You like fun, don’t you?” Natalie dragged a sharp digit of her gauntlet over his cheek, breaking the skin and leaving a long cut. “The more you resist, the more this hurts.” She ran her tongue over the metal, every last drop disappearing down her throat. The man’s quiet sobs brought a small smirk to her face.

Serana entered the fort through the main gate, surveying the scene before her. Natalie had slaughtered every single person in the fort with no mercy. Many were left as indescribable masses of blood and gore, their only identifying marks small bits of armour that had survived the elf’s assaults. The ground was slick with the red liquid, Serana very carefully picking her way towards the tower where she could hear her friend. She tiptoed over the war-hammer wielding bandit’s legs, really the only thing left of him. The mage looked like a wolf had torn his throat out and proceeded to keep biting all the way to the heart in the centre of his chest. How he had survived till he hit the ground was nothing short of a miracle, while at the same time a great tragedy.

She entered the tower, instantly spying the tripwires linked to spikes in the floor. She carefully made her way to the stairs, passing Natalie’s second last victim. She had torn his body apart, every limb separated from the torso, all with some form of bite mark on them. Serana climbed the stairs, unsure if she wanted to see Natalie in such a state of rage. When she finally reached the top, Serana had to restrain herself from gasping and startling Natalie into possible attacking her as well. The elf was crouched over her last target, the floor slick with blood as she tore into his chest. Serana could hear the blood running down her throat, the sound of ripping flesh as Natalie took even more from him. She had tortured this last one, lacerations covering the parts of the body that she hadn’t gotten around to devouring.

“Natalie?” The elf instantly straightened to her full height, head quickly snapped to Serana, no recognition in her eyes at all. “I think that’s enough.”

Natalie looked down at her hands and back to Serana. She remained still for a few moments, her brain attempting to process what she was seeing. “S… Serana?” The haze lifted from her vision. Her eyes returned to her hands, only now truly seeing what she held. In her left hand, a mutilated heart, blood streaming in rivulets over the metal. In her right, a mass of flesh, unrecognisable to what it might have been when she’d torn it from the man. They both slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground with a wet thud.

Natalie looked at Serana, finally recognising the woman in front of her. The blood red of her vampiric power faded back to green, horrified at the scene around her. She put her face in her hands but almost instantly recoiled, the blood coating them smearing onto her face. She began to hyperventilate, her legs giving way under her. Serana caught her, sinking down to the ground with the elf. Natalie managed to choke out a single question, “What have I done?”

“Shhh, don’t worry about that now.” Serana stroked the back of Natalie’s head, resting on her shoulder.

“I couldn’t stop. I kept going and killing and,” Natalie swallowed heavily, “eating.” She looked up into Serana’s eyes, “That was me. I can’t blame anyone for this… it was all me. I wanted it. To kill. To eat. To take every last-”

“Natalie.” Serana interrupted her, placing her hands lightly on the other vampire’s shoulders, “We can talk about this somewhere else. For now, let’s get out of here. Okay?”

Natalie nodded, not trusting her voice to not ramble on forever if she started. Serana helped Natalie to her feet, her legs still shaking uncontrollably. The elf took one last look around the room, imprinting on her mind what she’d done to a relatively innocent man. They made their way out of the room, Natalie averting her eyes from the ruin of the man at the bottom of the stairs.

Natalie gasped as they left the tower. She wasn’t surprised at the carnage she’d perpetrated, but still couldn’t believe she’d done it. She had never been driven by a single emotion like that before. The only thing she had to compare it to was when she turned into a werewolf. That she could separate from herself. Blame the beast. It wasn’t her, it was the beast. No one but herself was to blame here. Every kill, every drop of blood was still fresh in her mind, burned into it.

Natalie couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction at her acts here. It was there along with the horror of the situation. This was proof of her new power. If she could just learn to control it, there was so much she could do. So many things would become much easier.

Serana swung Natalie’s arm over her shoulder, helping the still shaking elf from the fortress. She was careful to guide them both around the puddles Natalie had left, avoiding any chance of Natalie relapsing into her hunger. They left the fort behind, filled with the first, but not the last, victims of Natalie’s hunger.

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 3:20am, 28 th of Evening Star, 4E 257**

**River, South of Solitude**

 

Natalie sat staring into the small fire Serana had built. The rush of the river nearby and the gentle crackling of the fire bringing calm to Natalie’s senses, despite what she’d just done.

Her leather armour lay next to her, cleaned of the blood that had completely covered it. Her hands were now spotless, vigorous scrubbing in the river taking away the last of the evidence. Her gauntlet had initially resisted the cleaning, but after some effort, she’d managed to remove all of the offending substance. Serana sat behind her, brushing through her long auburn hair, removing the matted blood that the river had been unable to cleanse. Serana had insisted on cleaning her armour, reasoning that the best way to move on, was to take away the immediate reminders of it, then talk with a clean slate.

“What… what happened to me?” Natalie broke the silence, playing with the plates of her gauntlet.

Serana sighed, pausing her washing of Natalie’s hair, thinking of the best way to explain the situation, “You remember how I said vampires can lose control?”

“Yes.” Natalie whispered the word.

“Well, it’s most extreme when we’re first turned. Turning effectively resets your need for sustenance. The food that may have been in your stomach is rendered useless. It can’t provide any energy to your new body. So, you need to eat. Blood in this case.” Serana resumed brushing Natalie’s hair, “It’s as though you’ve never eaten in your entire life. All that hunger rushing up at once. We call it the ‘Bloodlust’.”

“‘Bloodlust’…”

“To be honest, yours is the most intense I’ve ever seen or even heard of. Even my father’s wasn’t as powerful. To have control over that much power so soon after turning, it’s amazing. You’re one of a kind.”

Serana’s compliment drew a small blush to Natalie’s cheek, but she was slightly disturbed at the consequences. Did that make her an exceptionally powerful vampire? Or was it just her experience with handling immense strength that allowed her to display a certain mastery of the intense power. “How do I compare with other vampires?”

The elder vampire’s brow creased at this line of questioning, “Um, you’re definitely one of the strongest alive.”

“Will it be enough to defeat your father?”

“No.” Serana’s quick answer did not surprise Natalie. “Not without Auriel’s bow.”

“Thought so. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?”

Serana chuckled, “Nothing ever is. Especially when you’re involved it seems.”

“Do you think… do you think Molag Bal will keep talking to me?”

Serana placed her hand on the undershirt Natalie was wearing, “I can’t say for certain, but we’re most vulnerable to his influence when hungry. If we both keep ourselves from that, he shouldn’t bother us.”

Natalie nodded, “Good. Otherwise I might have to go into Oblivion myself and shut him up personally.”

Her joke brought a smile to Serana’s face, “I’d like to see that.”

Natalie looked over her shoulder at Serana, “We need to go to my home.”

The smile faded slightly, “What? Why?”

“I said I thought I knew where the last Elder Scroll was. If I’m right about where it is, I need to go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	11. Mark of Power

**Loredas, 11:10pm, 1 st of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Forest Path to the Dragonborn’s Home**

 

Natalie and Serana made their way along the path, this leg of their journey nearly over. Natalie could almost see her home through the trees, glimpses of its wooden roof visible through the foliage. She was nervous to show Serana her house, a far cry from the castle that the other vampire was used to. She hoped Serana wouldn’t think less of her.

As they got closer to the building, Natalie realized something was wrong. She noticed the path had been recently travelled, fresh tracks of a humanoid creature obvious to her trained eye. Far too recent to be hers from when she left with Torbald. Someone had come to her home within the last few hours, that she was sure of. For what purpose was still a mystery. If she had to guess, Natalie would assume it was sinister, unconvinced anyone would come to her home with innocent motivations.

The elf’s home came into view, and Natalie’s heart sank at the same time as her rage peaked. Her house had been broken into, its door hanging loosely from a single hinge. Almost every window was shattered, glass scattered everywhere. Some of the timber was charred from destruction magic, a large hole visible in the top of the roof.

The two women made it to the front porch, Natalie holding her hand out and stopping Serana from advancing further. “Stay here, I’ve got this.” Natalie entered the house, surveying the main room. Three man were crouched in the center of the room, attempting to break through a large dwarven metal plate imbedded into the floor. She could hear several more of them in the side rooms and one upstairs, searching for anything to get through it. The large whole in the roof illuminated the men with moonlight, making them easily visible. Natalie sighed loudly, drawing all of their attentions. The ones she couldn’t see came back to the main room revealing their identities. Vampires, garbed in Harkon’s colours. “You know, it’s rude to come into someone’s house uninvited. Especially a lady’s! For all you know, I could have been home and indecent!”

Simultaneously, they all drew weapons, falling into fighting stances. The closest one yelled out, “It’s the bitch herself! Get her, she can’t stop all of us!”

They all charged as one, a small smirk twisting the corner of Natalie’s mouth up. They leapt for her, Natalie’s hands flashing out in front. The gauntlet and flesh connected, before rapidly separating, green lightning sparking erratically between them. She pulled them back before thrusting forward, the lightning connecting with each vampire and every single object in the house.

The vampires froze in midair, soot particulate suspended around them. Small shards of wood and metal kicked up by the men completely still beside them. Natalie released the breath she’d been holding, calmly drawing her Dragonbone dagger.

Natalie moved through the floating vampires, slicing throats and stabbing hearts. A single fatal wound for each, nothing more, nothing less. To them, she was a blur, her movements completely instantaneous. They could feel her attacks, but could do nothing about them. They didn’t even die immediately from them, feeling every last bit of pain.

As she ended the last one, Natalie sheathed her dagger, her breath coming slightly quicker. She grabbed several of the vampires, moving them through the air and out the front door. Serana watched as the elf obtained the rest of them, relocating them about a dozen meters away from her home. “What are you doing?” Serana’s question almost broke Natalie’s concentration.

“You’ll see in a minute, please give me a moment.” Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead. She held out both hands, aiming at the group. The green electricity sparked up once more, arcing between her hands. They came together, the sparks surrounding their bodies. All at once, the injuries on the vampires became apparent, blood spurting from them and their bodies collapsing to the ground. Gasps of pain echoed in the forest before returning to its silence.

Natalie motioned for Serana to step away from the house, the elder vampire moving to stand behind the elf. Natalie drew in a deep breath, planting her feet in a staggered formation. She slowly raised her hands, the emerald magic shooting out and enveloping the entire building. It surrounded Natalie, her entire body wreathed in lightning. Her wrists slowly rotated, the magic twisting with every tiny movement.

Serana watched in amazement as all of the damage the house had sustained was reversed, pieces of timber and glass floating from the ground and rushing to their original positions. Wood on the ground flew upwards, patching the hole in the roof. The front door righted itself, coming back to its original closed position, locking once more. Serana could see through the window as the large rug came to cover the dwarven metal plate, a table rebuilding itself and planting on top of the cloth.

Once Natalie was satisfied with the condition of her house, she let go of the magic, the lightning flowing back into her palms. She pitched forward, catching herself on hands and knees. Her breathing came in choked gasps, suddenly drenched in sweat. Serana crouched beside her, concerned at the elf’s sudden exhaustion. “Okay, now will you tell me what in Oblivion you just did?”

Natalie swallowed, trying to catch her breath, “Something that I've never done on this scale before. Didn’t think it would drain my magicka this much.” She paused, looking up into Serana’s eyes, “I stopped time.” Natalie fell back into a sitting position, head between her legs as Serana tried to process the elf’s words, “At least for this area. Not everywhere, no one could do that. Then, I fatally wounded all those vampires, pulled them from the house and restarted time for them.”

Serana was shocked, to say the least, at the depths of Natalie’s magic, “I’m assuming you reversed time for your home then?”

The elf snapped her fingers and pointed at Serana, “Got it in one.” Natalie stood shakily to her feet, draining a magicka potion she’d drawn from her bandolier. Her breathing slowed as the potion took effect. She strode forward to the house, pulling the key from the pocket on her leg and unlocking the front door. “My next move would’ve been much more complicated if I couldn’t pull that off.”

Serana followed her into the building, watching as Natalie waved her hand, magic braziers lighting themselves throughout the house. The elf moved the large table to the side and rolled up the patterned rug. This revealed the Dwemer door Serana had caught a glimpse of from outside. The patterns inlayed on it were far more intricate now, the vampires’ actions to get through it being erased. Serana cocked her head as she stared at the designs, convinced she’d seen them somewhere before. She cast her gaze to Natalie and back to the door when it clicked. “These patterns... they’re the same as your tattoos.”

Natalie grinned at Serana, “That they are. Should’ve known you would see it straight away.” The Dwemer metal had runic symbols carved into it, three lines that curved up and met at a single point at the top. They almost exactly mirrored the marks on Natalie. The right line matched her right arm perfectly. The left, Serana assumed those runes had once been on Natalie’s arm before her horrific burns. The center corresponded to the markings Serana had seen down her spine. All three met at the base of Natalie’s neck, covered by her armour.

“Why?”

Natalie straightened up from where she was scanning the metal for damage, “Well, let’s just say there's things under here that I don’t trust anyone but me to have. The lock for this is magic, and the marks ensure no one but me can open it. Even if someone else knew the rather complicated spell to unlock it, unless they have these exact runes in their skin, it will remain closed.”

“Right.” Serana was about to ask what could possibly be under the door that Natalie only trusted herself to possess, but assumed she was about to see anyway. Instead, she asked a question that had been burning in her mind since meeting Natalie, “You know, I don’t think I've asked... what are those tattoos? They glow when you cast magic, but they’ve got to be for more than a showy effect.”

Natalie turned her eyes away from the door, staring into Serana’s eyes before averting her gaze, “They help to… focus my magic. Without them… it’s not pretty. I had an incident not too long after discovering I could even use magic to a degree.”

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 8:30am, 7 th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 202**

**Courtyard, College of Winterhold**

 

Natalie hurried after Faralda, the College’s master of Destruction magic, catching up to a few of her fellow apprentices. Only her third day at the College and she’d already made a fool of herself more than once, tripping over her own feet in her excitement at being here. The other apprentices snickered at her clumsiness, but Natalie payed them no mind. She’d made her way here on her own, and she’d become a better mage than anyone of them on her own.

The robes she’d been given felt like they had been tailored specifically for her, even though she knew they were only the most basic pieces of slightly enchanted cloth. They felt better than any clothing she had ever worn, more right than anything else. She was meant to be here, she knew it.

Natalie followed the master mage across the College, the snow cool on her bare feet. They reached a door Natalie had seen only a few mages come and go through, opening it onto a descending stairwell. The group descended the stairs, coming to a large open room Natalie assumed was directly under the courtyard. Many tunnels ran off in different directions, each one quickly turning a corner and hiding any possible indication of where they led.

“Gather round, Apprentices.” They all crowded Faralda before she held up a hand to stop their approach. “Now, today we will be learning and, once you are familiar with it, practicing a basic spell from the fire branch of Destruction magic.” She ignited a small flame in her hand with a flowing flick of her wrist. “Now, fire is arguably the most dangerous of the three magics within Destruction. Lose control of it-” The flame in her hand rapidly increased in size till it was the size of her head, “-and there can be dire consequences. We as mages must be vigilant when using fire to ensure we do not burn anything we do not intend to.” She extinguished the flame in her hand, scanning over the excited faces of the apprentices. “We will be learning the Firebolt spell. Useful for its rapid casting time, as well as its low drain on your mana reserves.

Faralda ushered the students back to the edge of the room, conjuring an ethereal dummy in the center of the room. “Now, watch my hand closely.” She raised her right hand into the air for all to see. Faralda bent her fingers in slightly, at the same time as her wrist rotated. An orb of flame quickly appeared, casting an orange glow over the mage. Her arm flung forward, launching the ball at the dummy. It ruptured outwards on contact, covering it with flames.

Much to Natalie’s initial disappointment, the dummy did not catch on fire, but she assumed it wasn’t flammable anyway. The spell seemed easy enough. Of all the spell tomes she’d looked over so far, the diagrams alone had been enough to grasp their basic use. A practical demonstration and a teacher would surely be even better for her.

“Okay, I want each of you to step forward and try the spell for yourselves. Then we’ll have you all practicing till you’ve got the hang of it.”

An eager Nord mage stepped forward, ready to try. He cast it easily, earning a round of applause from the other apprentices. All of the others formed a line, Natalie relegated to the back. They all succeeded at varying degrees of power, earning satisfied nods from Faralda. Finally, it was Natalie’s turn.

The Wood Elf stepped forward, ready to prove her worth. She put her right hand up, focusing her magicka down to the tips of her fingers. A small ball of flame appeared as she repeated the teacher’s actions, wavering in the light breeze flowing through the cavernous room. She threw it forward, weakly striking the dummy and barely obscuring it from sight. She could hear giggles from her fellow students, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at her pathetic display. Natalie quickly retreated to the back of the crowd, pulling her hood even further down over her face.

“Now that everyone’s got the hang of it,” Faralda conjured up more of the dummies, one for each apprentice, “Let us all try again, put a bit more power behind it this time.”

Despite her best efforts, Natalie somehow ended up with the dummy in the center of the room, in full view of every other mage. Each Firebolt she cast was incrementally better, but still seemed to pale in comparison to the rest of them. Faralda came to observe, standing silently for a few moments before intervening, “I think I see your problem Natalie.” Natalie let her hand fall, the small fire sputtering out from her grip. “You’re focusing too much on pushing your magicka through to your hand, rather than letting it flow naturally.” The High Elf moved behind Natalie, putting her hand over Natalie’s own and raising it up into a casting position. “Try this. Close your eyes.” Natalie did as was asked, wondering where the mage was going with this. “Now, instead of pushing your magic out, feel for it at your core.”

Natalie searched, finding a small glow in her center. “I, I think I feel it.”

“Good. Now, let it ebb towards your hand, don’t push it.” Natalie breathed out slowly, her magic gently snaking its way towards her outstretched hand, cupped by Faralda’s own. “Alright, now cast the spell.”

Natalie rotated her hand in the correct movements, feeling the heat of the flame building in her hand. She opened her eyes to a large ball of flame in her hand, almost as impressive as the ones that Faralda herself had cast. “I did it!”

“Well done! Now, throw it.” Natalie flung her arm forward, the spell connecting with the dummy with enough force to disintegrate it into nothingness. A smile sprung onto Natalie’s face, widening with every passing moment as she stared at where they dummy had been. “Excellent work! I think you’re ready for the next step.” Natalie eagerly turned to Faralda, prepared for anything she could teach the young elf. “Okay, the next step is to add your other hand. If done right, it can more than double the spell’s potency. You have to cast them in unison, combining their power into one spell. However, it is far more taxing on your magicka. Are you ready to give it a try?”

Instead of replying, Natalie turned to where her dummy had been putting both hands up in front of her. Faralda summoned another for her, this one larger than the last.

Natalie closed her eyes and breathed deeply, preparing herself to cast. Her senses fading away, all but disappearing from her perception. She let the magic flow as Faralda had taught her, once more feeling the heat on her outstretched hands. It felt far hotter this time. She could feel her magic wanting more. She let it all flow out, the heat intensifying with each second. Soon her whole body felt warm, her hands almost burning with how hot the flames between them was.

Yelling. Why could she hear yelling? It was right at the edge of her hearing, barely there. It was her name. Why was her name being yelled?

“NATALIE!” The elf slowly opened her eyes, almost blinded by the fire surrounding her. It had grown to completely engulf her body and was slowly expanding away from her. The dummy in front of her was no more, completely enflamed by her magic. Natalie turned with frightened eyes to Faralda, the master of Destruction staring wide-eyed at the inferno encircling her apprentice. “Natalie! You have to let go! Stop casting now!”

Natalie frantically tried to turn off her magic to no avail, “I… I can’t!” She could feel the magic intensifying even further. Every time she tried to stem the flow, it only seemed to grow more powerful. Natalie attempted to separate her hands from one another with all her might. She couldn’t even budge them an inch. Panic rose in her chest, consuming all of her thoughts.

“Apprentices! Get out of here, now!” Natalie’s comrades fled the room, hiding down the side tunnels away from the inferno. “Natalie.” The elf turned to look at Faralda with tear filled eyes. “I need you to cast the spell. Can you do that for me?” Natalie nodded, unable to give voice to her words. “Okay, on my signal, cast.” Faralda retreated to the stairwell, blocking the entrance off with as powerful a ward as she could muster. “Alright, Natalie. Now.”

With an almighty scream, Natalie cast the spell, flames exploding out from her in every direction. The flames spread throughout the room, hitting every wall and even the roof. They sped down the tunnels a short distance before finally sputtering out.

Natalie stood swaying in the center of the room, simultaneously amazed and afraid of her own power. Her legs buckled under her as she collapsed onto her back in the soot now covering every inch of the floor. Her vision faded as Faralda came into view, a look of awe and worry creasing the High Elf’s face.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 6:40pm, 7 th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 202**

**Apprentice Quarters, College of Winterhold**

 

Natalie slowly awoke in a soft bed. Opening her eyes, she found herself in the small space she’d been allocated as her own within the Apprentice’s quarters. Another apprentice sat in the corner stared wide-eyed at her for half a second before rushing from the room. Moments later, Faralda appeared in the doorway. Natalie tried to sit up at attention but almost immediately fell back down. She was more exhausted then she thought, her muscles unable to cooperate with her simple commands.

“That was quite a show you put on.” Natalie couldn’t tell from Faralda’s tone what she actually thought of her display. “The Arch Mage has requested to speak with you. Seeing as you are in no shape to get out of that bed, I will send for him now.”

“Arch M...” Before Natalie could protest, she was gone. Three days. That was all it took to ruin everything. Three days for her to ruin her chances to actually excel at something for once.

Natalie lay in her misery for only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. The wait till she was told she would be expelled from the College was agonising. Faralda returned, nodding to Natalie before moving from her doorway. The Dunmer Arch Mage, Savos Aren, moved in, a grave expression carved into his face. He sat in a chair in the corner, calmly regarding Natalie as she barely managed to sit up in her bed.

“Explain to me what you did.” Savos’ words hit Natalie hard, sending her spiralling into a stuttering excuse.

“I didn’t mean to! Please don’t expel me from-”

Savos held up his hand, silencing Natalie’s ramblings. “I think you’ve misunderstood my intent here Natalie. By no means am I angry.” He leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Frankly, I'm impressed. The amount of magicka you were able to call forward is nothing short of prodigious.” He glanced over his shoulder, spying several apprentices attempting to sneak forward and eavesdrop. He climbed to his feet, walking to the door. “I do not recall saying this was a matter for the whole College. All of you, get back in your rooms. Now.” The apprehended apprentices quickly scurried away, the Arch Mage returning to Natalie’s room, shutting the door and casting a muffle spell over it. “Now, where were we? Ah yes. Explain to me how you were able to cast that spell.”

“I... um... I did as Faralda said, cast a Firebolt with both hands. But... it sort of... got out of control.” Natalie sheepishly looked down, twisting her hands over themselves.

“A Firebolt?” Savos laughed heartily, “I've never heard of an Apprentice-Level spell having such an impact. What did Faralda tell you to do?”

“She said to not push my energy out, let it flow through me. Don’t force it.”

Savos nodded, “I think I know what happened. You didn’t in fact cast a Firebolt Natalie.” The elf looked up in confusion at the Arch Mage. “What you cast, was Firestorm.”

“Fire...storm?”

“It is one of the most powerful spells in the Destruction school. Many masters don’t even have the necessary power to cast it.” Savos chuckled, “The fact that you could cast it with that amount of force, let alone with absolutely zero training in the spell itself, well...” Savos’ met Natalie’s gaze with a kind smile, “You are a mage with once-in-a generation power Natalie.”

Natalie began to smile. She knew it. She wasn’t the average mage. She was more powerful than them all. She could achieve great things here. But the smile soon faltered, staring at her open hands, “But... I couldn’t control it. It felt like I was going to blow up the entire College if I kept going. What’s the point of all this power if I can’t even control it? What happens next time when someone like Faralda isn’t there to coach me out of it? What if I end up killing people I don’t mean to?”

“Natalie... where do you think you are?”

“What?”

“You really think we wouldn’t be able to help you?”

“You can?!” Natalie’s smile returned, excited at the prospect, “How?”

“There are recorded cases of mages with near or at your level of power in the College’s history. After the first few, the College developed a ritual to help them focus and control it.” Savos turned serious, “I can’t say it is without risks. The texts say it is rather painful. It cannot be stopped once started and if you can’t handle it, it will overwhelm you, and you will cease to exist.”

“I’ll die?” Natalie paled slightly.

“No. You will cease to be. There will be no evidence you were even her to begin with. You will be utterly disintegrated. The tomes say not even a mage’s soul can survive if the ritual fails. There’s a reason it is only used in extreme cases such as the one we now face.”

Natalie considered her options for a moment but quickly nodded, “I want it. I’ll do it, no matter the consequences.”

Savos was pleased with her answer, “Excellent. Come to the Hall of the Elements tomorrow morning. We will conduct the ritual there.” He stood, opening the door before pausing and turning back to Natalie, “And Natalie...”

Natalie straightened back up, “Yes, Arch Mage?”

“I look forward to your seeing your progress. Get some rest, you will need it.”

“Thank you, Arch Mage.” Natalie held his gaze for a moment, “I didn’t... hurt anyone did I?”

“Not too seriously. Faralda and a few of the apprentices had some very minor burns, but they were easily healed.” Savos paused for a second, “One of the apprentices did have some rather serious injuries to one of his arms. He’s been healed, but there will likely be some scarring.” Natalie nodded, at least glad she hadn’t killed anyone.

Savos left, closing the door behind him. Natalie lay back down properly, drifting into a dreamless sleep with a smile on her face.

 

* * *

 

**Turdas, 9:00am, 8 th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 202**

**Hall of the Elements, College of Winterhold**

 

Natalie timidly poked her head into the largest room in the College. Mages milled about everywhere, going about their daily business. Some were in lessons scattered around, the more advanced sat at tables scanning through texts or practicing complicated spells. Natalie could see some of them looking at her for just a little bit too long. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or jealousy in their eyes. Despite Savos’ efforts to keep what he had told her a secret, it was obvious at least some of them knew.

Savos soon entered the hall, stopping at Natalie’s side, “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.”

The Arch Mage walked forward, clapping his hands and getting the attention of all the mages in the hall. “Excuse my rudeness, but I will require all of you to step out for the morning. The masters and I require the room.” His tone turned more serious. “Under no circumstances is anyone to enter unless I have given express permission.”

They all filed out, some giving sidelong glances at Natalie and wondering why she was not following them out. Once they had exited, Savos sealed the door and pulled an ancient tome from somewhere within his robes.

Faralda and the heads of every school of magic got to their feet from various parts of the room, coming to crowd Natalie and Savos. “I don’t know if you’ve met all of them yet, but these are the masters of the College; Faralda you know, Master of Destruction. Colette, Master of Restoration. Drevis, Master of Illusion. Sergius, Master of Enchanting. Tolfdir, Master of Alteration. Phinis, Master of Conjuration. Urag gro-Shub, Librarian and Master of the Arcanaeum. And finally, Mirabelle Ervine, Master Wizard of the College of Winterhold.” The Arch Mage introduced each of them in turn, all of the mages giving respectful if somewhat reserved nods to Natalie.

Natalie felt like she was about to implode from nervousness. She stood among the most powerful mages in Skyrim, and yet somehow, she was the one they were focused on. “Uh… hi. I’m Natalie. Exploding Apprentice.”

Her joke earned her a small laugh, dispelling some of her nervousness. Savos continued, “The ritual will require all of our expertise.” He conjured a leather-bound chair, two arms sweeping out to its side, far longer than arm rests normally were, even if they were at the correct angle. Its back was slanted, allowing for reclining. “The first step is to etch runes into your skin. These will be the foundation for the enchantments to give you control over your magicka reserves.” Savos marched to the chair, Natalie following and sitting in it facing forward. “Please remove your robe and turn around.”

Natalie’s eyes widened, “I’m sorry, what?”

“These tattoos, if you will, need to go down the entire length of your spine. They will meet at the base of your neck and branch out onto both arms.” Natalie pulled her robe over her head, exposing her upper body. She began to remove the band covering her chest before Savos stopped her. “That won’t be necessary. It can be moved aside if needed.”

Natalie turned in the chair, laying her chest on the leather and her arms out to the side. Urag and Sergius strode forward, each with a needle and a small cauldron filled with thick black liquid.

They began with her hands, dipping the needle into the fluid and piercing her skin with it, quickly tracing a complicated rune onto the back of both hands. “It only stings a little. This won’t be so bad.”

Urag’s gruff reply disheartened Natalie, “This is the least painful part.”

“Oh… of course. What’s different about these to regular tattoos anyway?”

Sergius answered in a haughty tone, “What’s different? Everything! Firstly, these marks are ancient Nordic runes. Few people would even think to get these. And second, the ink is heavily enchanted to allow magic to flow through it. This whole thing would be useless without it!” Natalie picked up a comment under his breath about her being uneducated but chose to keep her mouth shut lest he slip with the needle.

Soon, the tattoos were in place, Natalie’s skin raw and puffy around the new markings. She stood up, admiring the intricate designs down her arms. “I rather like these.”

Savos looked over the two mages handiwork, “Done perfectly to specifications. Excellent. Now, the next step. I will prime the runes for the final incantation, guiding your magical essence down these new pathways. The final step will bind them in place.” The chair disappeared with a wave of his hand. “Please kneel here and stretch out your arms.”

Natalie did as asked, waiting for the next step. Savos stood several metres behind her, breathing in and out slowly. He moved both hands in a circle, purple magic forming a ring in front of him, before his hands shot forward. Tendrils of magic connected with each rune individually, a gasp of pain coming from Natalie as she felt her very being tugged in every direction.

Natalie grit her teeth, leaning forward as the Arch Mage’s magic pulled her own every which way. There seemed to be no method to his madness. It didn’t seem like her magic was moving along these pathways he’d described at all. She dealt with the pain for several minutes in silence, only the occasional shaky breath coming from her.

“Are you ready Natalie? This is the final step, also the most painful. We will use our combined power to bind your magic in place.”

Natalie struggled to form the words, “Yes. Do it.”

Magic shot from all of the mage’s hands connecting at the centre of Natalie’s back. For a moment, Natalie felt nothing. It all changed in an instant.

Natalie’s mind was consumed by pain. She gave out an ear-splitting scream, head thrown back as her body protested the sudden invasion. Energy pulsed out from the point on her back, searing all the way to the tips of Natalie’s fingers. Natalie’s eyes began to glow, the whites outshining the forest green. Soon, the entirety of her eyes glowed, the green completely gone. Her scream continued, unable to close her mouth.

Natalie’s scream turned into a roar as she lost any semblance of control. A small fire sparked out of her mouth, soon erupting into a torrent of flames almost reaching the ceiling.

The masters of the College shared a look of concern before Savos reassured them, “Keep going! We must finish or she will die!”

They intensified the flow into Natalie, the flames matching their increase. Slowly, the runes began to glow with the same white energy that Natalie’s eyes shone with. It spread from the point of contact, black turning into white. As it spread further, Natalie’s magic reigned itself in, her roaring inferno gradually retreating back down.

The last tattoo now glowed, Natalie’s magic completely stopping. All at once, they cut off the magic flowing into her body. The pain stopped. Natalie stood to her feet, flexing her fingers back and forth. The white glow remained, now surrounding her as an aura, giving her an almost ghostly appearance. She conjured a ball of flame in one hand, and a spark of lightning in the other. Natalie let her power flow through, increasing their intensity before abruptly cutting it off. Both spells obeyed, ceasing their expansion.

Natalie let the spells sputter out, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. The glow faded, returning Natalie to her normal form. She abruptly fell forward, catching herself on hands and knees. Faralda rushed forward, helping Natalie back to her feet, “I’m alright.” She grinned at them all, trying to catch her breath. “Looks like it worked. I don’t know how to thank you for this. I’ll do my best to repay you all for helping me.”

The Arch Mage came forward, holding out his hand which Natalie shook firmly, “I’m sure your deeds at this College will be payment enough.”

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 12:20am, 2 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Dragonborn’s Home**

 

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any weirder.” Serana chuckled warmly.

“Hey!” Natalie pouted, “It’s not that weird.”

“Tattoos to control magic? That’s pretty weird Natalie.”

“It was that or blow up every time I put any amount of effort into a spell!” Natalie grinned at Serana.

“See, now that could be useful.” Serana rose from the chair she’d been sitting in, lifting Natalie’s right arm and looking closely at the markings. Now that she knew what they were, she could feel the enchantment threaded through her skin. The flow of energy was intricate, rushing down carefully constructed paths. Serana gently ran her finger over the rune on the back of Natalie’s hand, tracing its curves. She looked up into Natalie’s eyes, finding her staring. Serana quickly let go of her hand and straightened up.

Serana coughed, moving to the door set into the floor. Natalie remained seated, unable to tear her gaze from where Serana had held her hand up. The rune tingled slightly, similar to if she cast a weak spell. Before she had time to ponder, Serana interrupted her, “How do we open this?”

Natalie jumped to her feet, distracting herself from her thoughts, “Right, yes. Open it.” She strode to the edge, “It needs two things. First,” Natalie summoned a key from seemingly nowhere, “This.” She slotted it into a small hole Serana hadn’t noticed at the base. A loud creaking sound emanated from deep below them. “The key primes the enchantments, allowing the magic to flow through the metal. It’s essentially the same process as my tattoos… though with less pain for me. And not nearly as dramatic.”

“How did you even get something like this in here?”

“Designed it. Got the materials. Built it. The hardest bit was getting the book on the ritual they used on me. Even being Arch Mage, it took me weeks to convince Urag to even let me look at the damn thing. Then, oh by the divines, convincing him to help me alter it to work on this… plus what else I wanted for it… probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Serana deadpan stared at Natalie, “Harder than killing Alduin?”

“You’ve never been in an argument with that Orc…” Natalie shook her head, “Right, time to open this.” She took off her weapons, placing them on a table at the side of the room.

Natalie began to unbuckle her chest armour, pulling the leather away from her and placing it with her weapons. Serana felt her cheeks start to burn as she watched Natalie, “Um… is that really necessary?”

Seeing Serana’s reaction, Natalie pulled her undershirt off, only leaving her breast band in place, “It is, yes. You’ll see why in a second.” Feeling emboldened by the other vampire’s sudden shyness, “You’ve seen me naked before, right? Shouldn’t be a problem then.” Natalie winked at Serana before taking her place standing over the door.

Natalie slowed her breathing and closed her eyes, summoning the magicka necessary for her task. She raised her hands in front of her, palms facing forward, nothing appearing to happen at first. Gradually, a white aura of energy formed around Natalie, her tattoos radiating power. Even those that should’ve been erased by her burns glowed out of the destroyed flesh and from under the Daedric metal. Tendrils of energy twisted out of her markings, meeting their duplicates carved into the door. They burned the air as they passed through it, charging it with power.

Her eyes opened, spilling a brilliant white glow across the room. Every other light source in the room shrunk away, the eerie glow filling every crevice.

“ ** _Bex. Golt. Miraad._** ”

Natalie’s Shout sounded even more alien to Serana than they normally did. It rippled through the air, impacting the door. The effect was instant. The door dropped slightly into the floor, and as Natalie separated her hands from one another, it split in half, revealing a cavernous opening in the floor.

One more deep breath brought the magic back to her, tattoos dimming back to their normal black. Natalie moved back to the table, buckling her armour back on. “If I'd left this on, it would’ve burned quite a few holes straight through the leather. Learned that lesson the first time I opened this.” She chuckled to herself, strapping on her weapons.

Natalie began the descent into the darkness, Serana hesitating at the precipice. She took one step down before yelping and falling backwards, clutching at her head. Natalie ran back up, falling to her knees, “What happened, are you alright?”

“Natalie... what the fuck do you have down there?” Serana rubbed at her temples, “The magical aura coming from down those stairs is ridiculous. I've got a headache from taking one step.”

Natalie glanced down into the darkness, “Better if I show you.” She helped Serana to her feet, pulling her down the stairs by her hand.

The stairs went on for some time, the darkness soon completely surrounding them. The door above them grated closed, and Serana could swear she heard the rug and table move back to cover it. The wave of magic power she’d felt on the first step only intensified. Serana feet as though it would overwhelm her senses and leave her comatose, but she somehow kept a hold of her conscious state. Finally, they came to a flat section, Serana only just able to make out a wooden door at the end of a short hallway.

“What’s this one need, some sort of impossible riddle?”

“Nah, it’s just a door.” Natalie’s response stunned Serana.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Natalie scratched at the back of her head, “Well, I figured if someone is so set on getting into this room, that they’re willing to break through a solid Dwarven metal door with an essentially impossible lock, they kind of deserve what’s in here.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“If I said you need a key to open it, would that make you less shocked?”

Serana sighed, covering her face with her hand, “No… no it would not.”

Natalie let go of Serana’s hand, pulling her house key from her leg pocket and unlocking the final door. She swung the door wide, leading into a just as darkened room. Once Serena was inside, she closed and locked the door behind them.

With a flick of her wrist, every brazier in the room illuminated, casting light over the contents. Serana’s mouth fell open.

Natalie had amassed a giant collection of artefacts from all over Skyrim. Everything from weapons to masks to gems sat in racks and on tables strewn about the room. Serana recognised several artefacts from her past, pieces of such incredible power that she was amazed Natalie had even one of them, let alone this many. A few rooms split off from the main one, Serana assumed filled with even more items Natalie probably shouldn’t possess. She lightly touched a jagged mace that hung in a weapon rack near the entrance. She whispered to herself, “The Mace of Molag Bal…” The hilt of a katana next to the mace caught her eye next, “The Ebony Blade…” Serana moved down the rack, examining each of the weapons hung on it.

“Natalie… how, or more specifically why, do you have so many Daedric Artefacts? This collection is amazing, how…” Serana was at a loss for words.

“I’ve collected them over the years.” Natalie’s face screwed up trying to think of a compelling reason to keep such a dangerous collection, “With each one I found, I was more certain they needed to be hidden from the world. It’s one of the main reasons I built this vault actually. In most people’s hands, these weapons would reap terrible chaos on the world. I mean, they all already have at some point.”

Natalie moved away to the end of the room, leaving Serana to gape at the rest of her collection. She came to a door at the end of the room, preparing to open it to their true goal. Her hand froze at the handle.

Serana shrieked in pain.

Natalie sprinted to one of the side rooms, finding her kneeling on the floor, clutching at her wrist. Her hand was severely burned, the skin almost completely gone. Natalie slid on her knees, coming to a stop next to the vampire. Serana’s body was wracked with heavy gasps, unable to do anything as she stared at her ruined hand.

“Give it here.” Natalie took Serana’s hand out of her own grip, her gauntlet pulsing with healing magic. The wound rapidly fixed itself, skin stretching back over the enflamed muscle. As Natalie let go of the magic, Serana released a heavy breath, tears streaked down her cheeks. “What happened?”

“I... I just touched that sword.” Natalie looked up at the offending weapon. She realised why Serana had been injured immediately.

“Ah... yes... those swords.” A twin pair of shining shortswords hung in a small rack, two of the only items she kept in this side room. They were each made of a single piece of metal, blade and handle constructed at the same time. They had nothing covering their grip, the evidence of where Serana had touched it only a small fingerprint on the gleaming metal. Natalie cast a weak spell, covering her gauntlet with a layer of frost. She gently placed it over Serana’s still tender hand, a sigh of relief coming from her. “They’re made of solid silver. One single piece.”

Serana finally caught her breath, “That doesn’t explain why it burned all of my skin off Natalie. Even silver shouldn’t have that effect from just touching the damn thing.”

The elder vampire’s glare earned a downcast look from the elf. “I suppose it doesn’t.” Natalie reached up, plucking one of the swords off the rack with her gauntlet. “As well as being silver, they’re heavily, heavily enchanted. When I got them... how the metal didn’t annihilate itself with the amount of magic locked within them, it's nothing short of a miracle. There’s at least five separate enchantments on them both, and frankly probably more.”

“More than five? That’s impossible.”

“Exactly what I thought. But here it is, plain as day. They absorb magicka, are infused with flames, the properties silver has naturally against vampires and werewolves extremely heightened, can force anyone from a transformed state back to their normal form.” She paused, “And they can absorb magical enchantments.”

Serana was silent for a moment, now able to feel the energy practically pouring off the blade after Natalie had mentioned it. “These can compel a vampire lord back to their human form?”

“And werewolves. I’ve seen it work on them. It’s a very… quick process. The tiniest cut, and bam. Changed back.”

Serana almost touched the blade again before remembering herself, “Have you ever been cut by them?”

Natalie’s skin went slightly pale as she swallowed past a lump in her throat, “No… but I saw it happen to a dear friend.”

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 10:40pm, 18 th of Sun’s Height, 4E 212**

**Outside the Last Bastion of the Silver Hand, Northern Skyrim**

 

Natalie and Aela stalked forwards, keeping low to the ground, out of sight of the guards on the fortress. The other members of the Companions followed soon after, making far more noise than the two women had, but still evading discovery by their enemy. For years they’d rooted out any last remnants of the Silver Hand, an enemy they’d thought had been dealt a fatal blow years ago. Unfortunately, there had been a resurgence and a regrouping. But now, the Companions were convinced this was the last stronghold. The last fight they would have to go through to crush this hated foe into the ground and choke the last bit of life out of it, with their bare hands if necessary.

“How do you want to do this?” Aela kept her eyes on the fort, making a note of every guard and how they moved.

“Quiet first, then show them the beast?” Natalie’s mask hid her expression from Aela’s approving grin.

“I like the way you think.” They both turned back to the men and women assembled behind them. “Let us go in first, take a few out. Once we give the signal, full assault on the front gate. Understood?” The group gave a quiet grunt of confirmation, eagerly gripping their weapons tighter.

Aela turned back to Natalie but found no one in her place. Natalie was half way up the wall of the castle already, going for the closest guard.

Natalie crept up the wall, flesh and metal easily finding handholds. She reached the top, peaking just over the battlements. A few metres further down, a guard stood scanning over the horizon. She silently vaulted over the stone, sneaking all the way to directly behind him. She reached up, snapping his neck until his head faced her, a small look of surprise in the man’s eyes before the life left him. Natalie lowered him to the ground, already moving to her next target.

Aela appeared next to her before she could get to him. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Natalie nodded, moving in the opposite direction around the battlements. Both of them eliminated every man or woman they came across without raising a single alarm. Once all of the guards on the wall had been dealt with, they regrouped above the main gate, preparing to make their presence known to the Silver Hand in the courtyard. Both breathed in, leaping down to the ground.

Their landing made a deliberately loud noise. Every Silver Hand soldier turned at the sound, spying two of the leaders of the Companions. A yell went up at their discovery. Too little, too late.

Aela immediately began to transform, armour falling off her body as fur grew, teeth lengthened and claws sharpened. She'd always taken far better to the transformation than Natalie ever had, actually seeming to relish turning for little to no reason. Natalie remained in her humanoid form, knowing at least one of them needed to retain their intelligence for the coming fight.

The wolf howled, a cry echoing over the landscape, the Companions ready for their signal. They charged, sweeping past their leaders, eager to join the battle.

Aela waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. She sprinted, leaping over her allies and attacking any enemy she saw with great ferocity. Every silver blade seemed to turn before they hit her bestial form, incapable of striking their target. She made quick work of any Silver Hand who approached her, tearing them limb from limb with ease. Her growling filled the fortress, echoing off the stone.

For her part, Natalie stayed back, firing an endless barrage from her Dragonbone short bow. Every Silver Hand member who got through the other Companions met a swift death at the Dragonborn’s hands. One managed to slip past and even dodge an arrow from Natalie. This one had spirit. Natalie stowed her bow, switching to her ebony shortsword. The sword sung as it cut through the air, the elf falling into a battle stance, sword raised high in her right hand.

“Show me what you got.” Natalie made a come-hither motion with her gauntlet, just waiting for the woman to attack.

“YOU DIE HERE MONSTER!” She screamed as she charged Natalie, swinging the silver greatsword she held with all her might. Natalie bent at the hips, the blade whistling over her chest, barely an inch from her mask as it past. The other woman stumbled forward, but quickly regained her footing and turned to face Natalie once more. Natalie took the opportunity, rushing forward and striking, her sword barely parried by the other.

_Fall back, dodge and parry. Spin, kick, rotate in the hand, stab behind._

The werewolf hunter learned quickly, using less of her strength but more speed behind each swing. Natalie’s far superior swordsmanship was obvious, every blow dodged or turned by her far smaller weapon. Natalie’s ears twitched at a sound, spinning and landing a savage kick to the woman’s chest, sending her sprawling away from her. The elf rotated her sword till it was facing behind her, plunging it into the gut of the Silver Hand guard who had thought to sneak up on her.

“You should’ve known it was impossible to take me unawares.” Natalie wrenched her blade free, marching forward to the woman still gasping for air on the ground. “I’ve got to say… I expected more.” The ebony metal pierced the heart of her enemy, one last wheeze of air escaping from her lungs.

The Harbinger turned to survey the courtyard. The Companions had sustained heavy casualties, but had still succeeded in securing the fortress. A few of her soldiers made to enter the fort proper.

“I will go in with Aela. The rest of you, stay out and kill any stragglers. Not one of them is to make it out alive.” She strode determined to the door, “This ends here. Tonight.”

Natalie came to the giant locked door to the fort’s main hall. She stood a few metres away from it, a werewolf panting beside her. Rearing back, she threw a fireball, blasting the timber apart. Aela bounded through the smoke, the sound of screams almost immediately heard but not seen. Natalie ambled inside, following the path of death Aela was creating. Natalie shot anyone Aela missed, arrows sprouting from their necks before they could react.

The elf and the werewolf moved further underground, leaving behind only devastation as they did so. Natalie searched every side room for any sign of the Silver Hand trying to hide. She would not let them get away this time. Either the Silver Hand all died tonight, or Natalie herself did. Those were the only two options as far as the Harbinger was concerned. She’d hunted them for too long, lost too many friends to their zealotry to fail now.

Natalie and Aela came to a long hallway, a wooden door at the far end. Natalie tapped Aela on the shoulder, the werewolf moving to allow her to go first. She tracked carefully down the hall, watching for any sign of traps in the floor. She disarmed a small tripwire, noting the axes that would have chopped either of them in half if she’d let them swing. She finally reached the door, pressing an ear to it and listening.

“Isran, I said go! This is no place for a boy. Run. NOW!” Everything was whispered, Natalie having to strain just to hear the words. She could hear a small child’s running footsteps receding away from her before a scrape of rock silenced them. So, there was a secret escape tunnel. Hopefully the Silver Hand was honourable enough to accept their inevitable demise and not attempt subterfuge to escape.

Natalie breathed out slowly, shifting her grip on the sword. That voice had been the Redguard leader of the Silver Hand. It was finally time. She raised one leg, pulling it fully into herself, before slamming into the door, knocking it off its hinges. Natalie and Aela entered the huge room, at least ten men arrayed against them.

Their leader stood in the centre of it all, resplendent in pure silver armour. He drew two shortswords, gleaming in the dim light of the braziers scattered around the room. The blades seemed too short for a man of his size, but Natalie could feel the magic radiating off them even from this distance, so there had to be something to them. “Ah! The two lead bitches of the Companions… how wonderful you’ve presented yourself on platters just for me.”

A growl emanated from deep within Aela’s throat, baring her sharp teeth as she stared down the Redguard. “You know, I’ve always found being polite to people will get you everywhere. As for your tone…” Natalie projected her voice with a Shout, “ **the only place it’s going to get you is in a fucking box.** ”

The Redguard laughed, “Bold words for a dead mongrel. Tell me, Dragonborn, do you know what these swords can do?”

“ **I don’t care what they do. Weapons won’t save you now. I’m going to fucking slaughter you like the fiend you are.** ”

“Fine. Come then. Face me.”

The two Companions yelled their war-cries, charging in unison. The leader fell back, his guards forming a blockade in front of him. Aela split off to the left, Natalie to the right.

Aela made a show of her prowess as a werewolf, using the mangled corpse of one of them as a mace. The body finally disintegrated, spraying blood over her remaining foe. The man stared in horror at the werewolf looming over him, bloody dripping from its maw. His sword clattered to the ground, giving up his last hope of surviving. Aela rewarded his surrender, quickly ending his life with a bite to the neck. She advanced on the leader, her instincts excited at the prospect of actually facing a foe worthy of her savagery.

Natalie fought all five of her attackers at once, moving like water, dodging every swinging blade. Every so often she would shock one of them with lightning, their armour conducting it throughout their bodies. “Come on! The last members of this great order, and you can’t even hit little old me?” Without warning, Natalie’s sword flashed out, piercing through the heart of one of them, flames erupting from the blade from her projectionary magic. She finished three more in quick succession, the last backing away out of fear. “I expected so much more from you.”

Aela charged the leader, dodging the lightning fast blades. This one was trained. He was a true soldier. More fun. Aela gave him a toothy grin as she pounced once more, claws going straight for his throat.

Natalie wrenched her sword free of the last soldier’s eye, wiping the blood and brain away on his tunic. A howl interrupted her work. She turned her head and her blood ran cold.

The Redguard leader of the Silver Hand had impaled Aela through the stomach with both blades. The area surrounding the swords was heavily burned, skin melting in front of Natalie’s eyes. That wasn’t the most shocking thing. To Natalie’s horror, Aela’s body rapidly transformed, fur disappearing replaced by pale skin. Teeth and limbs shortened back to their normal lengths. Before long, Aela stood in front of the man, naked and near death. The howl turned to a scream turned to sobbing. Her stomach was a complete ruin, the smell of burning flesh filling the room. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, staring at the silver embedded in her body. He removed the metal, sending her crashing to the ground, only barely clinging to life.

“ **NOOOOOO!** ” Natalie saw red. Completely unconcerned with her own safety, she picked up another sword from the ground, sprinting and clashing with the leader. She hadn’t fought with such ferocity in years, every blow faster and harder than the last. “ **HOW DARE YOU! YOU FUCKING VILE MONSTER!** ” Natalie’s exclamations drove home her pain at seeing her friend so grievously wounded.

The last member of the Silver Hand was on the back foot from the outset of Natalie’s onslaught. The speed with which she attacked was unlike anything he’d ever seen. He struggled just to see the blades coming, let along try to stop them. Soon, she’d knocked one of the blades out of his hand, her borrowed blade replaced by it. His armour was heavily dented, more damage added every second.

With a masterful display of her skill, Natalie amputated both his hands, shoving her ebony blade as hard as she could through the armour on his abdomen and out the other side. The second silver sword went flying into the air. Without looking, Natalie stuck her hand out, hilt nestling itself perfectly in it. She placed the silver on either side of his neck. “Any last words?”

He coughed, blood splattering Natalie’s hands. “Just-” Natalie crossed the swords, decapitating him before he could finish, his body clanging to the ground. The elf dropped the silver blades, throwing off her mask and rushing to Aela’s side.

Healing magic poured from her hands as she propped Aela’s head in her lap. “Please be ok. It’s going to be ok. I’ve got you now.” The Nord’s eyes fluttered, her body going into shock from the injury and rapid healing. Once she was finished, Natalie pulled Aela close to her chest, cradling the woman in her arms. “It’s all better now. It’s all better.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she rocked back and forth.

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 12:50am, 2 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Dragonborn’s Vault**

 

“I took the blades away and put them here.” Natalie wiped away a few tears that had fallen, “Aela was never the same after that. I tried to help her, but…”

Serana pulled Natalie into an embrace, surprising the elf. “I know these have caused you pain Natalie,” She pulled back, hands on Natalie’s shoulders, “But think of how much they could help now. These are the perfect weapons against my father.”

“These turned one of the strongest people I’ve ever known into a shut-in. What if they have an effect on the mind I don’t know about? What if it affects you or me? I can’t afford the risk. Hell, now that I’m a vampire, I’m barely going to be able to pick the damn things up, let alone use them.”

“Natalie.” Serana’s tone grew serious, “Even with Auriel’s Bow, it still might not be enough to defeat my father. These will give us the advantage. We need to use them.”

Natalie sighed, watching her reflection in the immaculate metal. She couldn’t argue with Serana’s logic. These two swords could prove the difference between victory and defeat. If she had to wield them once more, the safer she could make them, the better. She placed both swords on a table, retrieving lengths of blackened leather from a chest. She wrapped the metal hilts carefully, ensuring she never touched the metal except with her gauntlet.

The elf took off her ebony shortsword, taking the home of her new weapons. Two scabbards now adorned her hips, the silver shortswords sliding effortlessly into them. Serana sat by the door, waiting for Natalie to tell her why they came down to her vault in the first place. Natalie opened the door, striding down a short hallway to a metal gate. Serana followed, cautious as to what Natalie had in mind. “Okay, what does this have to do with an Elder Scroll?”

“Well… when I was searching for a way to defeat Alduin, I kind of… found an Elder Scroll.” Natalie looked sheepishly at the ground, “What I did with it after was… I put it back where I found it and also booby trapped its entire hiding place.”

Serena rubbed her eyes, “You did what?”

“It’s underground. In a Dwemer city. That no one but me has been to for a few millennia. Except for thousands of Falmer. And some giant constructs. And big bugs.”

Serana stared at Natalie, “Great.” Natalie opened the gate, a stone platform with a lever inside the only contents of the small cage. “Okay, where do we go from here?”

Natalie pulled the vampire onto the platform, closing the gate and pulling the lever. “Down.” The lift started with a jolt, leaving Natalie’s vault far above them, descending into the depths of Skyrim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	12. Into the Depths

**Sundas, 1:30am, 2 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Dwemer Lift Under the Dragonborn’s Vault**

 

Natalie and Serena stood silently, the scraping of the lift on stone filling the air. Natalie tapped her foot, glancing at the other vampire every so often. A slight frown creased Serana’s face, obviously annoyed at where Natalie had put the Elder Scroll. Should she bring up that she had to become undead just to get the other one? No, that would only exacerbate things.

Serana broke the silence, “How far down does this go?”

Natalie jumped at the question, “Um, not actually sure. We have to take another one even further down.”

“Why?”

“This one takes us almost deep enough, but we’ve got to walk a bit from the bottom of this one to get above the correct position.”

Abruptly, one of the stone walls disappeared, replaced by a metal grate. Through the bars Serana could see a Dwarven ruin, many of the buildings crumbling away. Soon, the lift stopped, Natalie throwing open the gate. Once Serana had stepped out, she pulled the lever and leapt out, the lift ascending back towards her vault. She turned back to Serana, a quizzical look on the elder vampire’s face, “There are other ways back to the surface. Better if I don’t leave this one open.”

“You better be right.” Serana scanned their surroundings, “I think I’ve spent enough time underground to last me for the rest of my life.”

Natalie nodded, moving away from the lift. She silently drew her bow, ears pricked up for any sound of ambush. The Falmer might not be able to see, but they’ve would’ve heard the lift arrive and come to investigate the disturbance in their territory. The path they needed to take was relatively straight forward. The only issue being, Natalie hadn’t been down here in decades. What if the fallen elves had erected new structures blocking their way? What if they’d broken the lift? Getting the Elder Scroll would be almost impossible. The other lifts down to its location were surely locked from the surface.

A shift of stone broke Natalie’s train of thought. In less than a second, she’d drawn an arrow and aimed at where the noise came from. Nothing was there in the darkness. Another noise. And another. “Run.”

Natalie took off at a sprint, Serana quickly following till they were running side by side. A quick glance behind them confirmed Natalie’s suspicions. At least twenty Falmer had heard them and given chase. They could easily fight that many off, but she had no idea exactly how many there were. Being swarmed by blind monsters was not part of the plan. They moved through the Dwarven complex, down deserted streets and through abandoned buildings. More Falmer joined the chase as they flashed past. Soon, a small army chased the two vampires, decreasing their options of escape.

Natalie put her bow back over her shoulder, palms pointed behind her. She summoned as much magicka as she dared to, careful not to release too much to destabilize the ruins. Spheres of flame sputtered to life in her hands, flickering as the elf kept running. Natalie let her power flow, pillars of fire jetting out to engulf the rampaging horde behind her. The frontrunners were immediately incinerated, the ones behind managing to slow down before they too were destroyed.

The two women slowed down, turning to look out over the burning ground. The Falmer stood on the other side, now wary of this unknown enemy. They could both hear more of the blind elves massing out of sight. Natalie tried to catch her breath, turning to keep their distance, “It’s not far now. All we’ve got to do is make it to the other lift.”

Resuming their run away from the Falmer, Natalie led Serana through the ruins, taking out any Falmer who happened upon their path. The elves had resumed their chase, footfalls echoing off the metal and stone. The two vampires burst through a final door, now in sight of the lift. Natalie quickly cast several trap runes around the area, hoping to slow the advance.

They crossed the final area, Falmer hot on their heels. Every trap exploded in a brilliant display of energy, instantly ending any Falmer foolish enough to set them off. Natalie only just managed to slam the gate down, crushing the arm of the lead pursuer. Bodies slammed against the grate, arms reaching through to claw at their targets. Serana drove them back, flames shearing through their bodies and propelling them away. She held the magic, discouraging any more of them from approaching. Natalie joined her, their combined magical assault sending the enemy even further into retreat. The metal of the grate soon glowed, becoming malleable and drooping ever so slightly. The surrounding rocks cracked under the heat. The clamour of the Falmer’s screeching filled the air, hell-bent on killing the two invaders. “Anytime now.” Beads of sweat ran down Serana’s forehead from maintaining the spell.

Natalie slammed the lever down, starting their descent even further into the earth. Both women collapsed, letting go of their power and breathing hard from their escape. Serana started to laugh, Natalie soon joining her. “I’ve got to say, interesting spot to build your house on top of.”

“It was either there or in one of the cities. Couldn’t get the any of the Jarl’s permissions to dig.” Natalie grinned at Serana; glad they’d gotten past the awkwardness of before.

“You know,” Serana’s breathing finally slowed from the exertion, “You still haven’t told me where we’re going exactly.”

“Blackreach. It’s basically a giant cave. As far as I understand, the Dwemer discovered a mineral called Aetherium. Built four cities to mine and use it. Blackreach connects them all.” Natalie rubbed the tattoos on her right arm, “All destroyed and deserted now of course.”

“And there’s somewhere to hold an Elder Scroll?”

“Yeah. Nigh impregnable. I’m amazed I got through the first time.” Natalie chuckled, “Here’s hoping I remember how to get through my traps.”

The lift continued its journey, plunging them further into darkness. Natalie recalled having great trouble seeing through the darkness the first time she came down here. The strange fog that seemed to permeate every inch of Blackreach had made it even worse. Hopefully her new vampiric sight would aid her, and make it easier to traverse Blackreach to where they needed to go.

After some time travelling, the lift abruptly stopped, nearly throwing both women from their feet. Natalie opened the gate, bow at the ready for any enemy who might attempt to sneak up on them. They exited into a large room, empty except for a few scattered tables and the lift itself. The door to the cave proper was shut, dust covering the intricate designs carved into its metal. If Natalie had to guess, it hadn’t been opened since she’d been here last, hopefully meaning there was nothing waiting for them right outside.

Serana attempted to open the door silently, rewarded with possible the loudest creaking she’d ever heard, the door’s hinges complaining as they were opened for the first time in decades. Both vampires cringed at the sound, Natalie slowly turning with her bow drawn, scanning the outside for any hostiles. They released simultaneous breaths. Luckily for them, nothing had heard the almighty racket. Or, if they had, they didn’t care to investigate.

Serana finally looked at the cavern, mouth falling open. They were on a small ledge at one end of the enormous space. Giant mushrooms grew amongst the Dwemer buildings, great pillars of stone running from the floor all the way to the almost out of sight ceiling. Natalie smiled at Serana’s reaction, having had almost the exact same look on her face when she’d stumbled into Blackreach all those years ago. Every plant gave off a bluish green light, dimly illuminating the whole cave. Even with this light, the other end of the cavern was hidden from sight. Serana marvelled at how large this place actually was, and wondered how it didn’t collapse in on itself from the weight of the world above.

Natalie’s voice knocked Serana out of her stupor, “We better get moving. The Elder Scroll is nearly at the other end.” Natalie moved off, keeping her bow at the ready for any sign of trouble. Serana followed, falling into step beside her. The look on Serana’s face had not left, wonderment still etched into it. The elder vampire’s gaze swept everywhere, studying every detail of the space. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“In its own way, yes.” She reached out, lightly brushing the fleshy top of a giant mushroom. Its illumination briefly increased, Serana withdrawing her hand. “It’s a whole different world down here.”

“One piece of advice.” Natalie’s face creased at a memory, “Don’t eat the mushrooms. They kind of taste like rotting meat.”

Serana burst out laughing, “Why would you try eating one?”

“I got hungry! Giant bugs are almost as bad. And I'm sure as hell not going to try eating a Falmer,” Natalie made a gagging noise, “Well... I wouldn’t have then.” She thought for a moment, “Maybe the blood wouldn’t be so bad now.”

“I doubt they’d taste any good either. I’m not going to stop you if you want to test it though.” Natalie narrowed her eyes at Serana, a grin her only response.

They continued on the path, descending to the cavern floor. The mist soon permeated the air around them, seeming to tighten its hold wherever they walked. Serana attempted to clear the air with a small spell, but it only served to thicken it. Natalie knew a shout that would dissipate the dense fog, but decided it would attract more attention than it was worth.

Both women could hear the skittering of insectoid legs and the flapping of wings echoing off the stone around them. They crept on, wary of their surroundings. Before Serana could even think to react, Natalie spun, firing an arrow and striking a Chaurus hunter from the air. They side stepped the corpse, splattering the ground with its blood as it gave it last screech and slid past them. The elf wrenched her arrow out, shaking off the fluids coating it. Several more came from the shadows, swiftly taken down by their vampiric prey.

The tips of Natalie’s ears twitched at another sound. One they’d heard only a short time ago. The all too familiar sound of Falmer plate armour shifting. “Let’s move, we can’t afford to get surrounded down here.” They hurriedly moved on, leaving the Falmer behind to inspect their handiwork. The sounds drifting too them became fainter as they moved away, eventually fading to nothingness even with their enhanced hearing.

They wound through canyons of stone and metal, entrances to long forgotten buildings passing as they progressed. The stone walls surrounding them grew further apart, until they exited the almost maze-like passages into the cavern proper. Natalie pointed into the distance at a huge tower, gleaming Dwarven metal even in the dimness of the cavern, “That’s where we need to get to. The Elder Scroll is about half way up. There’s also a lift at the top that’ll take us back to the surface once we get it.”

Serana looked at the tower, eyes falling to the moat of water surrounding the structure. From what she could see, the only way to the island the tower rested on was a drawbridge, currently raised to prevent travel to the island proper. A formidable Dwemer statue stood at its head, she assumed to warn off any potential invaders. “And how do we get to the island exactly?”

“There’s a mechanism that will drop the bridge,” Natalie cast a sidelong glance at Serana, “What? Don’t trust I know where I'm going?” Serana rolled her eyes at Natalie’s grin, moving ahead of the elf. Natalie followed behind, still watchful for any attack.

As they got closer to the bridge, Natalie could sense more Falmer around them. If they weren’t careful, they’d have a horde of them to deal with. As they rounded a corner into a clearing, Natalie’s heart sank. “Oh, shit...”

Arrayed in front of the bridge was a Falmer encampment, buildings strewn about seemingly haphazardly, but still easily defensible. This hadn’t been here when she’d last been down here, and made their job infinitely more complicated. An assault from the front would likely be successful, but the noise would echo everywhere in Blackreach and just attract every Falmer that lived in the cavern. A silent approach might get them to the bridge’s controls, but as soon as they activated them, it would have the same effect. Every Falmer in the small city would come out to attack the head of the bridge as soon as possible. They'd either have to destroy the bridge once they’d crossed, a feat which Natalie assumed would almost completely tax her magicka reserves, or they’d have to somehow raise it again to prevent them crossing.

She grabbed Serana’s hand, pulling her back around the corner. Serana narrowed her eyes at Natalie, “I’m assuming that wasn’t there before, correct?”

Natalie looked sheepishly up at the other vampire, “Not exactly...”

Serana cracked her knuckles, holding either side of her head and flexing her neck till it popped, “We haven’t had a good fight in a while.” She drew her dagger, spinning it around her hand, “This’ll be fun.” Serana’s grin lit up her face.

“We can’t. We start an all-out fight with them, and all of Blackreach hears us. There's a tiny chance we’d be able to hold them off, but not for long enough. We'd be overwhelmed.”

The grin faltered, “Then how do we get past?”

An idea formed in Natalie’s head, a smirk lighting up her face, “Distraction. Follow me.”

Natalie led Serana away, skirting around the edge of the Falmer garrison. She stopped them nearly at the edge of the bridge, turning to face away from it and drawing an arrow. She drew back, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. The arrow head started to glow, flames licking its surface. The magic expanded around the head, forming a small ball of pure fire, shining intensely. She aimed in the direction they’d come from, elevating her shot to get over the city and put some distance between them. She fired.

Serana watched the arrow streak through the air, leaving a bright burning path. It disappeared from sight over rock formations. All was silent for a moment. A blinding light filled her vision. Then the sound came. A massive explosion rocked through the air, drowning out any other source. Flames exploded above the rocks, a mushroom shaped cloud forming. The sound of the magic dissipated, once more replaced by silence.

Falmer screeching filled the air. They poured from their city, rushing down the path the two women had taken to get there. Soon, the sound faded into the distance, chasing the non-existent enemy at the source of the explosion. Natalie released a breath; thankful her plan had been successful. “That should distract them for a while. Hopefully enough time to get the bridge down, cross it and raise it again.” Natalie moved off, Serana following close behind.

Natalie scanned over the bridge, spying each one of the constructs she’d left to guard the Elder Scroll. “Alright, the bridge controls are in that building,” She pointed at a small structure to the side, “Once we activate it, it’s going to make a lot of noise, so we’re going to have to get over as soon as we can, even if it’s not completely down yet.”

“Got it.” Serana moved forward before Natalie reached out and grabbed her arm, “What?” The elf pointed at the statue, “It’s just a statue, right?”

“Most of the time sure…” She picked up a small rock, tossing it near the statue. It immediately sprung to life, punching down and crushing the stone into dust. It grated back to its normal position, falling inert once more. “Others, it does that.”

“Well, I did say I wanted a fight.” Serana rushed off, a headlong charge directly at the construct. Her dagger flashed out, ready to strike. The Dwemer creation activated, steam spraying from its pistons as it prepared to defend itself. An arm swung down, Serana easily dodging and using it as leverage to jump above it. She stabbed at exactly the right angle, getting through the moving armoured plates around its shoulder joint. With a sharp twist, the arm detached, thundering to the ground as Serana landed and moved away. She repeated her action with the other arm, before a full vampiric-force kick to the centre of its chest sent the machine to the ground, a huge dent in its armour. She slowly strode back to Natalie a smug smile on her face.

Natalie only smirked pointing behind Serana. She turned at the sound of metal scraping over metal, only to see the automaton climbing back to its feet. Its shoulder joints and severed arms connected with lightning, rising off the ground before rushing back, and completing their reattachment. “They’re a little harder to kill than that. Got to destroy the core.”

_Sprint, under the legs. Leap, dodge the hands, stab down into the back. Throw the plate. Stab the core._

Natalie drew her silver swords, falling into a battle stance before sprinting past Serana. The construct saw her coming, bringing both its fists down hard. Natalie managed to avoid them, sliding between its legs. She sprung back to her feet, charging and leaping up onto its back. She deftly moved her body around the reaching metal arms, stabbing down into its back. She managed to get each sword into the same split between plates, levering the armour off, exposing the inner workings. Natalie threw the plates away from her, spying the core right down in the centre of her enemy. With a battle roar, she thrust both swords down, breaking through every mechanism and destroying its magical power source. Immediately, the Dwemer creation went limp, falling forward, allowing Natalie to somersault back to her feet. She strode back to Serana with her own smug smirk.

“And that’s how you kill them.”

Serana poked her tongue out, returning her attention to the bridge. She found the lever for it, pulling it down, filling the air with machinery noise, gears announcing their presence as they turned to put down the bridge. Serana joined Natalie at the head of it, watching at the marvel of engineering perform its function.

The bridge finally came down completely, no sign of Falmer from behind and a clear path ahead. The moment the two vampires set foot on the bridge, they heard screams. Turning behind, the Falmer army that had rushed off to Natalie’s distraction had returned. “Run.” They took off at a sprint, hundreds of Falmer rapidly streaming through their city to chase them. Barely half way across they came to a stop, Dwarven constructs of varying sizes activating on the island and moving to block their path. “We have to keep moving, get the bridge up.”

“And how are we going to get through all those constructs?”

“Doesn’t matter how, we have to. MOVE!” Natalie began running towards the island’s defences.

**_Ah ah ah… it’s time._ **

“NO!” Natalie felt her mind being pulled away from her body. “NOT NOW!” She attempted to struggle against the pull, her willpower barely enough to resist.

Serana glanced at the elf as she stumbled slightly, “What?!”

Natalie’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, limbs falling limp and her body falling forward, face planting the bridge. Serana frantically rolled Natalie onto her back, opening her eyes with her fingers. The elf’s eyes were unfocused, staring into space. She glanced first one way, then the other. Enemies advanced from both sides. Escape would not be possible. She would have to hold them off till Natalie’s mind returned to her body.

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 4:00am, 2 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Coldharbour**

 

Wind rushed through her hair as she fell, cold on her naked body. She barely had time to react before she struck the ground, the bones in her back and legs shattering on impact. Her eyes flew open, a wordless scream from her lips. Just as painfully, her bones reset themselves, shifting under her skin back into their correct positions, before an excruciating heat moulded them back together.

Natalie curled herself into a ball, waiting for the pain to stop. After several minutes, she struggled to her feet, realising where she was. She rubbed up and down her arms with bare hands, trying to ward off the cold that permeated this place. Deep rumbling laughter echoed behind her. Natalie froze, afraid to turn around and see what she dreaded would be there. Slowly, her feet disobeyed her, rotating her body around to face the laughing figure.

A clawed hand wrapped around her throat before her eyes could focus, lifting her clear off the ground. Natalie eye’s screwed shut, gasping for air as she attempted to remove the fingers crushing her windpipe. Her body was lifted even higher before being slammed back down onto a hard stone. Natalie could instantly taste blood in her mouth, coughing it out as she turned onto her side.

“ **Ah, how good to see you again Natalie.** ” She rolled over, looking up into the terrifying visage of Molag Bal, “ **The day has finally come.** ”

Natalie whispered, “Send me back.”

“ **I’m sorry, what was that?** ”

“I said, send. Me. Back.” Her words were more forceful.

“ **Now… why would I do that?** ”

“Serana’s going to die without me there. We both will. You’ll lose both of us in one fell swoop.”

The Daedric Prince’s laughter erupted once more, echoing over the landscape, “ **Oh I think she’ll be just fine while we have our little…** ” He moved closer, crouching over her, the myriad of his teeth just an inch away from her face. His putrid breath almost made Natalie gag, “ **Discussion.** ” He returned to his full height, stretching out his arms to their full span. Natalie could feel his power radiating in waves, even stronger than it had been when she’d been trapped here before. “ **I have a proposition for you, Dragonborn.** ”

“Why the hell would I accept anything you offer?” Natalie struggled to raise her head off the ground.

His eyes returned to hers, a look of annoyance flashing across his face, “ **You say that like you haven’t already.** ” He folded his arms behind his back and began pacing in front of her. “ **It’s rather simple. You take part in a… ritual, and I make you a true vampire.** ”

“I’m already a true vampire, I don’t need any more reason to be beholden to you.”

A short bark of laughter filled the surroundings, “ **You’ve barely scratched the surface of this gift in its pure form. Don’t get me wrong, Serana did an excellent job of turning you. I doubt anyone but herself or her parents would’ve been able to chase the mutt’s spirit out of you.** ” He smirked at the small look of sadness at the mention of her previous patron, “ **But… you are at best, a half-breed. Not one of the pure nightwalkers.** ” He took Natalie’s face between two sharp claws, forcing her to look into his eyes, “ **I would make you family… a Daughter of Coldharbour.** ”

“And give Harkon another target to fulfil the prophecy?”

“ **Surely if you actually thought you’d fail; you wouldn’t even be attempting to end him. What’s one more target to you?** ”

Natalie couldn’t deny the truth of Molag Bal’s assertions. She’d come up against impossible odds before and triumphed. If this could push them in her favour, shouldn’t she take every advantage she could get? Before she could ponder further, her arms moved of their own accord, locking out to her sides. Her head was forced down, connecting forcefully with the stone. She couldn’t move a muscle but her eyes, frantically searching for a reason for her sudden paralysis.

“ **I’d recommend not struggling. This’ll only hurt more.** ” Maniacal cackling spilled from his lips as Natalie tried with all her might to move. The stone she lay on raised from the ground, forming an intricate altar. “ **I must reshape your mind into an exact replica of your true body.** ” He leant forward, whispers invading Natalie’s pointed ear, “ **Every injury you’ve ever had, every single little bit of pain. You'll experience them again, all at once.** ”

Natalie’s eye widened, putting even more effort into moving. Her struggles only met with more laughter. Molag Bal’s hand floated over Natalie’s stomach, lightly brushing over the taut muscle. “ **Let us begin.** ” His fingers splayed out, sending power coursing through the elf’s small frame. She gritted her teeth as the tattoos of her physical body were reapplied all at once, carving themselves into her flesh. The instant they were finished, the Daedric Prince began the spell to enchant them, releasing the hold over her muscles enough to allow her to scream. White light pulsed from her body, illuminating the dreary landscape. Her chest raised off the stone towards his hand, pulled by the intense magic.

The enchantment finished, he released the spell, Natalie’s body collapsing back onto the altar. Her breathing was heavy, the glow fading from her body. The runes looked like they had been burned into her skin rather than inked on. She watched on in horror as a greatsword materialized in the Daedric Prince’s hand.

Without warning, he plunged the massive blade straight through Natalie’s abdomen, impaling her to the stone. The sword screeched as it broke through the stone beneath her. Her screams echoed all throughout Coldharbour as he twisted the blade, just as the man had done all those years ago. There was no way for her to remove the weapon, only stare at the ruins left of her stomach. Bal let go of the hilt, the cross guard now resting against the elf’s belly. He made no move to remove the blade from her, leaving her blood to pool under her, staining the stone.

Natalie coughed, spattering blood over her face and the top of her chest. Her breathing came in ragged gasps, tears slowly tracking down from the corner of her eyes. Bal smirked at her pain; his enjoyment written across his face. With a flick of his wrist, a faint whistling entered Natalie’s ears. She looked to the sky, spying a black cloud dropping towards her. Only when it got closer did she realize what it was.

Dozens of arrows, every arrow she’d ever been shot by, descended towards her already heavily injured body. Each arrow that pierced her skin elicited another scream. All the while, the Daedric Prince used a small dagger to cut and stab everywhere she’d ever been damaged by a blade. Her body was riddled with arrows and covered in lacerations across her arms, legs and torso.

Molag Bal took great pleasure at removing each arrow as slow as he possibly could. Natalie’s mind knew nothing but the pain. Her vision was utterly white, completely consumed by the agony of her injuries. Bal watched as her eyes changed, the forest green slowly taken over by red, expanding from the edges. Her vampiric fangs extended, her control over any of the powers she’d been given totally absent.

As each arrow left her skin, the wounds closed, replaced by the scars her physical body bore. Each cut from the Prince’s dagger sealed itself, stemming the flow of her blood onto the altar. The healing was almost as painful as the injuries themselves, Natalie unable to stop herself from crying out. Finally, only the greatsword was left embedded in her gut, still fixing her in place.

Molag Bal wrapped a clawed hand around the hilt, gradually drawing it from her body. He vibrated his hand slightly, making the wound even worse than it had been when it had been done to her physical form. The sword came free, the sharp point leaving her flesh behind. With excruciatingly slow speed, the wound healed, leaving behind the massive scar Natalie had known for decades.

Next, every bone she had ever broken was pummelled, starting at her feet and working her way up. With the last blow, Bal shattered her sternum. Her breathing almost completely stopped, the pieces shifting back into place at an agonizing pace.

She was finally able to breathe properly, the air rushing into her lungs burning as it went down. She could still feel every sharp pain, barely dulled from the blades being removed. “ **And now…** ” Natalie was able to raise her head just enough to see the malevolent sneer now creasing Bal’s face, “ **For the GRAND FINALE!** ”

Natalie’s left arm was forced straight up, every finger fully extended. She could only watch on as a piece of armour descended from the sky. An exact copy of her gauntlet now hovered slightly above her immobile arm. She could see the runes dedicating the metal to Sheogorath imprinted on it, the subtle glow of the metal obvious in the darkness of Coldharbour.

“Please… please no.”

“ **I’ll give Sheogorath some credit for this. He really did a fine job at tricking you.** ”

The gauntlet resumed its journey, perfectly fitting over Natalie’s hand. It settled into place, touching every inch of her skin. The heat built slowly, starting off pleasant, but the elf knew exactly where this was going. Soon, it became insufferable, her entire arm heating to barely tolerable levels. Suddenly, the heating sped up.

All at once, her entire arm was wreathed in flame. Her skin bubbled and melted, flames licking all the way through to her bones, blackening them with their intensity. The gauntlet’s metal glowed red hot, turning the skin beneath to a liquid as they combined into one seamless mass. Her scream was louder than every previous one combined. The memory of the injury intensified the agony to new heights, her hand remaining locked in the air while her body writhed beneath it.

Finally, Molag Bal released his hold over all of her muscles, her arm falling to the ground with a clatter. The heat dissipated, the time magic of the Psijics falling into place. She struggled onto her knees, cradling her gauntlet like a newborn child. She stared down at her hands; vision blurred with a layer of unshed tears. Natalie blinked them away, unable to raise her eyes to look at the being who had just tortured her. Her gauntlet creaked as she tightened both fists, her nails cutting through the skin on her right hand to send small drops of blood falling to the ground.

“ **Your resilience is impressive, Dragonborn.** ” The Daedric Prince’s compliment did nothing to quell the rage that now burned in Natalie’s heart. “ **Most don’t even survive that first part of the ritual. Then again, most haven’t been injured so severely through their lives. I suppose it is doubly impressive.** ” He grabbed Natalie’s wrists, slamming her onto her back and pinning them above her head with one hand. “ **Are you ready for the next?** ” with his other hand, Bal separated her legs, his power preventing her from moving. “ **It is rather fortuitous this day came before you faced Harkon. None of this would be possible on any other day. My summoning day has always been rather,** ” the Daedric Prince’s words slithered into Natalie’s very soul, “ **…pleasurable.** ” His free hand began to move down her body, ghosting over her breasts and lightly touching her stomach. Talons moved between her legs, almost entering between them…

“ENOUGH!” Natalie’s power exploded, wrenching herself free of his grasp. Her right fist connected with his jaw, sending the demonic creature flying away from her. She floated to her feet, her fury boiling over. Her tattoos glowed a deep red, completely changing the colour of everything around her. Any trace of the forest green in her eyes was gone, replaced by complete vampiric red. Red lightning pulsated from her runes, striking the ground around her. Blood from the wounds Bal had inflicted smeared her entire body, giving her an even more hellish look.

“ **YOU DARE TO STRIKE…** ”

Natalie surged forward at blinding speed, uppercutting Molag Bal with her gauntlet. The blow sent him reeling away, the Daedric lord slightly shocked at her strength, “TOUCH ME AGAIN, INVADE MY MIND, DO ANYTHING TO FUCK WITH ME… AND I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK HOW I DO IT,” Natalie’s wrath was a sight to behold, raw power radiating from her, the realm of Coldharbour seeming to flex and shy away from her, “I WILL COME FOR YOU. I WILL GET INTO THIS REALM BY ANY MEANS. I. WILL. MASSACRE. YOU.” The elf stared with utter revulsion at him, “Now… SEND. ME. BACK.”

Molag Bal got to his feet, laughter spilling forth as he marvelled at Natalie’s audacity. “ **Dragonborn… you are a remarkable creature.** ” The elf did not back down a single step, seething with rage in front of him. “ **I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of you mortals take to the power so quickly. Things usually go…** ” He gave a sickening grin, “ **Further. You may have ruined my fun, but no matter. The point is… you’ve done it. You have the power.** ” The Daedric Prince of Domination’s form began to expand, soon completely dwarfing Natalie. “ **You are truly-** ” his hand rushed down towards Natalie, big enough to shade her from the cold light of his realm, “ **-one of my Daughters.** ”

Natalie thrust out her hands, jets of destruction magic flying to meet the approaching flesh. Lightning, frost and fire spread over his hand’s surface, doing absolutely no damage to it. Natalie screamed her frustration as she poured forth more power, the hand’s progress not slowed one iota. It forced her to her knees before completely crushing her into the ground, forcing her into unconsciousness almost immediately.

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 4:30am, 2 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Blackreach**

 

Serana held the ward over her and Natalie. Falmer and Dwemer constructs alike beat with all their might down upon the golden shield, all the while fighting a war between themselves. She crouched over Natalie’s unconscious body, hoping that the elf would soon wake up and they could get out of this mess.

Serana had attempted to fight off both forces at once, succeeding for a few minutes before their numbers overwhelmed her. She’d thrown many Falmer off the side to drown in the moat, throwing bolts of lightning down with them for good measure. Natalie’s demonstration at how to beat constructs was instructive, but when faced with so many, there was only so much she could do. Most of her defence against the automatons had been just to push them back with pure brute force, too dangerous to focus her full attention on them and neglect protecting Natalie’s unconscious body. If they’d all been coming from one direction, maybe she could have defeated them, but from opposite sides? She didn’t have a chance. She’d been forced to encase both of them in as powerful a ward as she could muster, hoping it would hold till the elf awoke.

Natalie stirred the tiniest bit, a small twitch of her muscles. “Natalie?” Another twitch came through, her limbs coming slightly off the bridge before falling down again. “Come on, get up!” Her tattoos gave off the faintest light, a gentle gold illuminating their surroundings. Serana could see her eyes moving beneath her eyelids, faster and faster as the glow intensified.

Natalie’s eyes opened, completely red before being consumed by the same energy as her tattoos. She abruptly sat up, almost headbutting Serana. The elf climbed to her feet, Serana’s ward bending around her to accommodate her height, despite the elder vampire not doing anything. She thrust out her arms, parallel with the bridge. The ward expanded away from her, driving the two opposing armies apart towards their respective entrances, constructs on her left, Falmer on her right. They all struggled against the barrier, their respective strengths not enough to stop them from being pushed back further.

A glance at her surroundings told the Dragonborn all she needed to know. Falmer corpses along with the ruined metal of constructs were strewn about her, largely due to Serana’s efforts. If she hadn’t come back now, it was likely they both would’ve died to the onslaught. She breathed in, summoning the energy necessary to release them from their magical prison.

A ball of lightning formed in her left hand, rapidly expanding into a sheet that blocked the bridge to the automaton’s advancement. Unstable flames sprang to life in her right, repeating the action of the lightning and covering the Falmer from view. She released her breath, her magic responding, flexing with her. She could feel the Daedric Prince’s power still within her, augmenting her own considerable strength. Natalie gave a yell, bending her arms in before straightening them, the walls of magic surging down the bridge.

The lightning swept through the Dwemer constructs, completely devastating the careful mechanisms that kept them functional. They collapsed to the ground, electricity still sparking off them as their cores short circuited from the sheer power flowing through them. The metal convulsed on the ground, overpowered by the magic before coming to a stop, lifeless on the bridge and the island.

The wave of fire swept through the Falmer, turning flesh and armour alike to ash, absolutely no trace of their existence left behind. The flames swept through the fallen elves and beyond, setting their entire city ablaze. The inferno’s light drowned out every other source, surely visible from everywhere within Blackreach. The Falmer army scattered to no avail, the flames seeming to track them no matter what direction they ran. Every last one of them was incinerated, the entire army annihilated in a matter of seconds.

Natalie released both spells, this hiss of Dwemer machinery and the distant burning of the Falmer encampment the only sounds. She turned her back to the island, walking a few metres further away. She breathed in, pointing both hands at the bridge. Flames sputtered to life, before erupting in twin intense streams. The elf swept her arms back and forth, melting the bridge. She began pacing backward, destroying more and more of the bridge, preventing any from following them. She let go, liquid dwarven metal boiling the moat below as it slowly dripped down.

Satisfied with her handywork, Natalie made her way back to Serana, releasing the power she’d used to defeat both armies and destroy the bridge. As soon as the glow faded from her, Natalie stumbled forward, overcome with fatigue. Serana barely managed to catch her, swinging an arm over her shoulder. Serana helped Natalie to hobble onto the island, both sinking to sit with their backs against the end of the bridge.

Natalie handed Serana a magicka potion, draining one herself. Both tried to catch their breath, the metal of the bridge cool on their backs. Serana noticed that Natalie’s eyes had not changed back to green, and showed no sign of releasing the vampiric aura. Natalie’s fangs were extended, easily visible in her open mouth as she panted.

Natalie caught the other vampire staring, “What?”

“What happened?”

Natalie dropped eye contact, playing with the metal plates of her gauntlet. She opened her mouth to speak before shutting and opening it once more, “Do you know what day it is?”

“I haven’t exactly kept track since I woke up.”

“It’s the 2nd of Morning Star.”

Serana’s eyes widened in realisation. That Natalie had even come back from what she had just experienced was a miracle in and of itself. Most didn’t survive the ordeal. “What did he do to you?”

“He… he tortured me. Every wound I’ve ever sustained… done again.” She raised her gauntlet up, “This, melted on once more.” She rubbed her hand over her stomach, “Driven through with that greatsword again. Shot with arrows, burned with magic-” Natalie’s words caught in her throat, “-everything.”

“And did he… you know…” Painful, degrading memories surfaced back into Serana’s mind unbidden, shaking her head in an effort to dispel them.

“No. I’m not sure how I did it. But I… overpowered him before he could.”

“Overpowered him? That doesn’t seem possible.”

“I’ve done a lot of impossible things. Why not this?” Natalie’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Serana stood, offering her hand to Natalie, “Come on, we’ve got to get moving. That Elder Scroll is not going to collect itself.” The elf took the hand, climbing to her feet and setting off to the base of the tower. As she walked, she regained control of her vampiric powers, her eyes shifting back and fangs retracting.

“What’s different about being a Daughter of Coldharbour compared to a normal vampire?”

Natalie’s question caught Serana off-guard, “Well, the sun doesn’t affect us nearly as much. It sort of tingles, like needles in your skin. For the most part, we can ignore it. We’re stronger, faster, better reflexes… basically just better vampires. More of the positives and less of the negatives.”

Natalie frowned, “But now I’m just another target for the prophecy.”

Serana hesitated, not sure if she should give the answer Natalie wanted or what she needed to hear, “Well, yes. But my father has no way of knowing that unless we tell him.”

Natalie grinned, “Better not tell him then. Keep this as our little secret.” She winked at Serana, continuing on to the tower and opening the door at its base. “Not too far now. Short distance up the tower, solve the puzzle and the scroll is ours.”

The two women strolled in, the doors automatically closing behind them. Serana could swear she heard a locking mechanism activate once they had. The interior of the tower was cramped. Only a few metres of hallway before a stone wall and two staircases sweeping off to the sides.

Natalie stuck her hand out, stopping Serana from advancing up one of the staircases. “Wait. Traps.” She drew her bow, sighting down onto a specific step. The arrow struck the step, causing it to depress slightly. Natalie moved Serana back as a rumbling echoed through the stone interior. Rocks tumbled down both sets of stairs, cracking the stone as they went. They rolled to a stop against the vampires’ feet, Natalie lightly kicking one away. “One trap down, only a few to go.” She aimed slightly higher this time, hitting the wall further up the stairs. Fire jetted out of the wall, bathing both staircases simultaneously.

Natalie continued to set off traps as they climbed through the tower, Serana wondering how she’d even managed to set half of them without setting the others off. “I’m amazed none of the constructs set these off.”

“None of them actually come inside. Don’t know if the Dwemer designed it to protect the scroll a bit more… maybe they just can’t use doors.” The staircase they were on met its twin, finally coming to a large metal door. “And here we are.”

The door opened with no resistance, not even a sound from its hinges. They came onto a small platform, four pedestals with glowing buttons and one with an empty depression in front of them. Serana’s mouth dropped open as she looked around the room. The roof was a giant dome, made of an intricate combination of metal and crystal. A Dwemer machine dominated the centre, consisting of several lenses along with a complicated looking set of apparatus, she assumed for moving the lenses for some purpose. A huge green crystal hovered in the centre, its function unknown to Serana as she stared at it.

As Serana continued to study their surroundings, Natalie pulled a Dwarven cube from her bag, slotting it into the empty pedestal. It immediately lit up, power flowing through the entire room as the mechanisms sprang to life. A light beam shot from the centre of the ceiling to connect with one of the lenses, reflecting straight onto the floor. Serana came to her side, marvelling at the console. “What is that?”

“It’s what I picked up from my quarters when we were at the College. It’s a Lexicon.” Serana’s puzzled expression made her explain further, “Essentially a really fancy key, at least it is in this case. It’s inscribed with a lot of the Dwarven language, as well as the magic to unlock the Elder Scroll from its housing.” Natalie looked from pedestal to pedestal as she scratched her head, “Now, let’s see if I can remember how to open this thing.”

After several minutes of cursing and fiddling with combinations, Natalie was successful, the beam of light refracting through the green crystal, illuminating its interior. Serana could see the outline of the scroll within, watching as it descended down to the floor of the room. Natalie removed it from its housing, turning it over in her hands, “You know… I swear this was bigger when I put it in here.”

Serana laughed, taking the scroll and putting it with the others under her cloak, “If the other ones ever change size, I'll let you know. We can even tell Dexion about it, I'm sure he would love the chance to study a shapeshifting Elder Scroll.” Natalie removed the lexicon, placing it back into her bag. The whole room darkened once she removed it, the mechanisms closing the green crystal and shifting back into their previous positions. Serana would’ve wanted to study how all this worked, but she knew they had to get out of here as quickly as they could. Natalie led the way out of the room, opening a door Serana hadn’t noticed opposite to the one they’d used to access the Elder Scroll’s chamber.

A short distance through the hallway beyond the door, they came to a balcony overlooking Blackreach. The burning Falmer camp lit up the cavern, beautiful in its destructiveness amongst the dim light of the cavern. Natalie could see some Falmer scrambling to put out the fire, collecting water from the moat and futilely pouring it onto the raging inferno. “I feel bad for them.”

Serana looked to Natalie with confusion, “They tried to kill us. Why?”

“We are invaders in their world, they’re just protecting their home.” Natalie focused down onto the city, “ _FO KRAH DIIN_!” The Shout sent a wave of ice thundering towards the Falmer. It lost a significant amount of its impact as the Shout spread over such a distance. It blanketed the entire city in a thin layer of frost, extinguishing the flames immediately and freezing several Falmer in their tracks. “They won’t have to start from scratch now. Let’s go.”

Natalie led Serana onto a small path coming off the side of the balcony, winding its way around the outside of the tower. There was nothing to stop them from falling the significant distance to the ground, not even a small guard rail. “The Dwarves really weren’t big fans of safety, were they?”

Natalie looked back at Serana, a smile across her face, “Maybe we should test the strength of vampire bones?”

“Go on then, I won’t stop you.” Serana cocked an eyebrow, daring Natalie to call her bluff.

“Um... I happen to like my bones unbroken.”

“You’re no fun.”

They climbed higher and higher, following the winding walkway up the tower. When Serana was sure they were going to be met with the cavern roof and would have to walk into complete darkness, the path abruptly stopped, the top of the tower still more than ten metres away from the roof. In the centre, a lift shaft disappeared into the ceiling, signalling their way out.

Natalie threw the gate open, looking up into the lift shaft. She swore she could see the end of it, all the way at the surface. “This will take us all the way. Settle in, if I remember correctly, this thing takes ages to get up there.” The lever easily yielded to Natalie’s push. She took her pack off, using it as a pillow. Serana settled in beside her, scrunching up her cloak for her own pillow. The Elder Scrolls lie next to her, finally together.

“Back to Fort Dawnguard then? Unless you’ve got another Moth Priest stashed in that vault of yours.”

Natalie chuckled, “Unfortunately, I don’t. And I like being able to see, so I’m not reading them either. Hopefully Dexion is still there.” Natalie paused, allowing her control to slip over her vampiric appearance, “This is going to be hard to explain.” She turned her head to face Serana.

“Don’t tell them.”

“But what… what if I lose control while we’re there? If Isran pisses me off enough, I might just eat him.”

“I’ll make sure you don’t. And if either of us do… we’ll deal with it.” Serana’s gentle smile set Natalie at ease. “And besides, you could’ve gotten out of there by yourself before being a vampire. Now, we could probably even get out without harming any of them. They were remarkably slow.”

“True. We just need to get in and get out. Nice and quick. No dealing with that infuriating, bigoted little shit.”

Serana stared at Natalie’s uncertain eyes, “Are you going to tell him?”

“What?”

“That you killed his father.”

“Oh.” Natalie laughed, “No, I think that would cause more problems than it would solve. Even if it would be satisfying to tell him about it. He’s every bit as determined as his father. He’d never stop till I did the same to him. We don’t need another enemy in this fight.”

The elder vampire nodded, turning her head to the slowly approaching roof, “Where does this one let out?”

“In the mountains, pretty far north-east of my house. I swear there’s some magic involved; it always lets out further away than you’d think it would. Should only take a couple of days to get back to the fort.”

Both women closed their eyes, the rhythmic grinding of the lift as it ascended the only noise.

 

* * *

 

**Sundas, 7:00am, 2 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Great Lift at Raldbthar**

 

The lift ground to a halt, jerking both women from their slumber. They quickly climbed to their feet, sending the lift back into the depths of Blackreach. Natalie reached for the door to the outside but stopped with her hand almost on the handle. There was a noise of crunching snow from outside. It was getting closer by the second. Both vampires hid around the corner from the door, Natalie drawing two daggers and Serana one of her own.

Daylight spilled into the room, the sound of shifting armour filling the air. “Anyone there?” An unsure voice rang out, accompanied by a few unsheathing of weapons. “Come out with your hands up! Get your gold ready too!” his voice was fresh, clearly new to this profession. Natalie grinned at Serana as the target came closer to their hiding spots. She adjusted her grip, preparing to strike as fast as she could. He saw Natalie first, turning to face her.

_In the neck, throw the other one. Charge, tackle, break the neck. Catch the arrow, draw the sword. Knock the arrows from the air, thrust through._

As soon as the man saw her, Natalie was upon him, burying one dagger deep into his neck. His strained cry shocked his companions, staring as he collapsed in a bloody heap. Natalie threw her other dagger, impaling another in the exact centre of his forehead. Before the next target could react, Natalie surged forward at inhuman speeds, tackling him at full force. One punch across his face broke his neck instantaneously. An arrow flew at the vampire, caught out of the air mere inches from her shoulder. She twirled the projectile in her hand, rising back to her full height.

She drew a single silver blade, shining in the morning sun against the snow. The last target, a woman dressed in basic fur armour, kept firing as she backed away. Natalie calmly walked forward, chopping the arrows from the air with seemingly no effort. Her quiver ran out, a look of complete and utter panic crossing her face. Natalie could hear the woman’s heart beating faster as she stared death in the face. She drew her sword, shaking in her hand as she held it aloft. Natalie took pity on her, sprinting forward and ending her life with a quick thrust through her heart.

The smell of burning flesh permeated the air as Natalie pulled the sword free from the corpse. The blood boiled off the blade as she slid it back into its scabbard. Natalie picked the body up from the ground, taking a long drink from its neck. She closed her eyes and looked skyward, feeling the sun’s influence on her bare skin. It wasn’t nearly as bad as before, feeling exactly like Serana had described it, only a mild annoyance if anything.

Serana strode from the building, handing Natalie back her discarded weapons. “Feel any different?”

“Faster, definitely. Every one of them looked like they weren’t even moving. Sun too, doesn’t hurt as much.” Natalie sheathed her daggers, “We better get moving, there's probably a camp with more of them in the ruins down the mountain.”

They set off, Shadowmere somehow appearing out of nowhere at Natalie’s call, galloping to the south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	13. Betrayal

**Middas, 8:20am, 5 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Dayspring Canyon**

 

Shadowmere silently trudged through the entrance to the canyon, pulling her hooves from the muddy ground with a small amount of effort. Rain poured all around them, soaking both riders even through their heavy travelling cloaks. Both women kept their hoods up and eyes downcast, avoiding the prying eyes of soldiers as they passed. Not one of them questioned their presence, instantly recognising the great beast and her two riders. They knew not to hamper their travel, well aware of the consequences they could face if they did.

They soon gained a large following of soldiers, some celebrating their return, others watching with wary eyes. Natalie tried to ignore them as best she could, concentrating all of her willpower into maintaining control over her vampiric appearance.

Torbald saw them coming and made no attempt to approach. He simply watched as the mare made it all the way to the fortress and entered. The guards initially hesitated to open the doors but relented and shut them once they’d gone inside. Only then did Torbald make his way closer, the two soldiers saluting him as he passed inside. After training many of them in what Natalie had taught him, he’d gained the respect of his peers, despite many of them being many years his senior, and with vastly more experience.

The two vampires strode through the halls, every member of the Dawnguard giving them a wide berth. It didn’t take long for whispers to start among the recruits, painfully loud to their ears. Many wanted them restrained and executed, others hushed them with the knowledge they didn’t have anywhere close to the strength to even attempt such a feat.

They ascended to the second level of the keep, the recruits knowing better than to attempt to follow them. Torbald pushed past the crowd at the base of the stairs, following his one-time teacher and her companion to where they were going. He crept forward, knowing full-well Natalie definitely knew he was there. He found both women as they opened the door to the largest room in the upper level, the room they kept the Moth Priest in. He took a few steps, carefully positioning himself out of sight of Isran but with full view of the room.

Natalie made her way into the room, instantly spotting Isran talking to Dexion. A scowl formed on her face at the same time one did on his. “Isran.”

“Dragonborn. Still travelling with the freak, I see?”

Natalie almost marched forward and punched him before Serana lay a hand on her shoulder, “If you have something to say to me, Isran, say it to my face, don’t use Natalie as an intermediary.” Serana’s eyes briefly flashed red, the Redguard’s heart beating faster in his chest.

Natalie turned to Dexion, the old man resting comfortably in a large armchair, “Dexion.” Her tone was much lighter, actually glad to see the Priest, “Glad to see they’ve been treating you well.”

“Thank you, my friend. The Dawnguard have been most welcoming. I assume you’ve come for a reading of the three Elder Scrolls?”

Natalie’s mood began to sink as she looked at the bandages covering Dexion’s eyes, “We have… yes.”

Dexion wrung his hands together, “I’m sorry, my friend. I can no longer be of use to you.”

The elf swallowed, “What happened?”

Dexion chuckled half-heartedly, “It’s my fault. In my haste to read the first scroll, I neglected the careful preparation required. I thought I’d be able to allay the after effect, but I was wrong. Now I’m paying for it.”

“So, the bandages… are you…”

“Blind? Completely, I’m afraid.”

“I could heal you, return your sight.”

He held up a hand, silencing any further ideas from Natalie, “No. It will have to run its course, and there’s always the chance I may never recover.”

Natalie paced the room, hands coming up to push her hood down and run through her soaked hair, “Then we’re finished. After all that, we’re done.”

Dexion coughed, Natalie spinning to face him, “Not necessarily. There is one other way. The question is, how much are you willing to risk to find Auriel’s Bow?”

Natalie glanced at Serana, the look on her face plain. She’d already become undead for this, what was one more sacrifice? “What do we need to do?”

The Moth Priest sighed, “I can’t guarantee you’ll be free from harm. Becoming blind could be the least of your worries.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just tell me.”

Dexion leant forward in the chair, clasping his hands together, “Scattered across Tamriel are secluded locations known only as Ancestor Glades. There is a single one in Skyrim, in the Pine Forest. If you were to perform the Ritual of the Ancestor Moth within the glade, it should provide you with the ancestors you seek.”

“Explain the ritual.”

Dexion reached into his robes, resting on something beneath the cloth, “It involves carefully removing the bark from the Canticle Tree which will in turn attract Ancestor Moths to you. Once enough of the moths are following, they’ll provide you with the second sight needed to decipher the scrolls.”

Natalie drew her elven dagger loudly from the small of her back, “Will any blade work for collecting it?”

“Unfortunately, no. In keeping with tradition, you must use a specific tool in the Ancestor Glade, an implement known as a Draw Knife.” The priest took his hands from his robes, drawing a double-handed knife from somewhere within them, “Every Moth Priest is taught this ritual, but few ever get the chance to perform it… you should consider yourself fortunate if it works for you.”

“Wait… there’s a chance it won’t even work? I might go blind for no purpose whatsoever?” Natalie balked at Dexion, shocked he would even suggest this ritual if there was a chance it would fail.

Dexion smiled, “You’ve come this far, and you’ve found not one, not two, but three Elder Scrolls. Whether you believe it or not, the scrolls have a mind of their own. If they didn’t want you to find them, they wouldn’t allow it. Because of this, I strongly believe you were meant to hear the ancestral chorus. Only one way to find out.”

Natalie stood with her hands on her hips, bunching her cloak behind her. The hilts of her silver swords poked out, Isran’s eyes travelling to the shining metal. A memory began to surface in his mind, one he’d tried to block out for years.

The elf continued with her conversation, oblivious to the rage building in the man across the room, “Do the scrolls need to be read in any particular order?”

The Moth Priest nodded, “From what I saw in the vision, the Elder Scroll which foreshadows the defiance of the gods with the blood of mortals is the key to the prophecy.”

Natalie took the Draw Knife from Dexion’s hands, turning the blade over in her own. “Thank you Dexion. If there is anything I can do for your eyes, let me know.”

“Thank you, Dragonborn. But I think I’d rather have it run its course. It is a fitting fate for my haste in reading the Elder Scroll. And serve as a reminder of the good I did in stopping this menace.” He smiled, climbing to his feet and holding his hand out. He was almost at a ninety-degree angle from where the elf was, but Natalie moved into position, gripping the old man’s forearm. “Until me meet again, my friend.”

“Divines be with you.”

Natalie began to make her way to the door, Serana following her. “Where did you get those swords?”

Isran’s voice stopped both women in their tracks. The Dragonborn slowly turned back to face him, staring down the enraged leader of the Dawnguard. “My vault.”

“Don’t give me that shit. THOSE WERE MY FATHER’S!” Isran’s explosive yell echoed in the fort’s stone walls.

Natalie strode forward till there was only a small distance between her and the Redguard. “And what if they were? What are you going to do about it?” Natalie’s whisper was deafening, only serving to fuel his rage further.

They both remained silent for several moments, eyes never wavering from one another’s. Isran drew his sword, yelling as he closed the distance.

Natalie watched him in slow motion as he thundered toward her. She breathed out slowly, shifting her stance to split her legs.

_Bring gauntlet up, disarm the sword. Grab throat, push off the ground._

The instant before the sword struck her in the side, Natalie brought her gauntlet up, harmlessly batting it out of the Redguard’s grip, sending it clattering to the ground. Her right hand came up, folding around his throat. She lifted the helpless man off the ground, his toes barely scraping the ground as he gasped for air. Natalie pushed off, sending them both flying across the room. She slammed Isran into the wall and held him as high as she could off the ground, his hands attempting to loosen her fingers.

“You know… I knew I’d heard your name before but, it only hit me a few days ago. Your father said it.” Natalie raised her gauntlet up, tapping Isran’s chest with a plated finger, “Your father… Now he was a real piece of work.” She narrowed her eyes, a menacing glare forming on her face, “Your father was one of the worst people I’ve ever had the displeasure to meet. He hunted my brothers and sisters for no reason other than to satisfy his own sick need to rid Tamriel of a part of nature.” Natalie lost control of her appearance, eyes turning red to the shock of Isran. “He turned one of the strongest people I’ve ever known into a shell of her former self. Thanks to him, she can barely do anything.” Her voice became louder, spit flying into his face, “SHE HASN’T GONE OUTSIDE IN DECADES!” She let go, dropping the Redguard in a heap on the ground, leaning close till she was nearly touching his ear with her lips, “ _I killed your father like the dog he was. I killed all his men and then I cut his fucking head off_.” Natalie rose back up, turning to march towards the door, “Try to attack me again, and it will be the last thing you ever do.” Her threat echoed off the stone, Dexion shying away from her anger.

Isran struggled to rise, rubbing at the bruise forming on his throat and gasping for air, “You admit to killing my father and you’ve betrayed the Dawnguard.” His croaking voice stopped Natalie once more in her tracks. “You’re just another monster like that other bitch you call an ally.”

Natalie seethed with rage, picking up a dagger from a nearby table, turning the blade over in her hands. She whirled around with a practiced flick of her wrist. The blade sliced through the air, burying itself all the way to the hilt in Isran’s shoulder. The force of it hitting him sent him crashing into the wall, only to slump down once more. He managed to raise his eyes to look at Natalie, her fangs extended and her blood-red eyes fixed on him.

“I’ll send them all after you. All of the Dawnguard. They will know what you are.” Determination grew in his voice, tinged with pain at the dagger protruding from his shoulder, “Just another vampire to slaughter in our crusade.”

“Then you’ll be sending them to die for nothing. All to sate your pointless need for revenge.” Her voice turned even colder, “Your father deserved what he got.”

Serana walked out of the door, catching sight of Torbald listening in. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Natalie exiting the room. The elf stared at the young Nord for but a moment, her vampiric powers still on full display. She blinked, forest green reclaiming its rightful place and her fangs retracting back. Sadness flashed through her eyes before brushing past him and descending the fortress’ stairs. Serana hurriedly followed her, avoiding making any eye contact with Torbald.

Torbald stared after them. What had Natalie done? She’d allowed herself to be swayed by the enemy. Turned into one of the enemies. He could see the need to work with Serana. He could see the need to use her to get to her father. But, turning into a vampire herself should never have been a part of the plan.

His resolved hardened looking into the room at Isran struggling to remove the dagger embedded in his shoulder. Natalie had betrayed them. And there was only one way to deal with traitors. No matter who she was, no matter what he thought of her personally… she’d done the unforgivable. There was only one fitting punishment.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 10:00am, 5 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Entrance to Dayspring Canyon**

 

Natalie and Serana marched out of the canyon, the elf just as angry as when they’d last been here. Neither said a word as they turned west, the rain still beating down onto their travelling cloaks, drowning out much of the noise of their surroundings. She didn’t even call for Shadowmere, preferring to trudge through the mud. She didn’t hear the men approaching, didn’t want to hear them.

Serana turned to find members of the Dawnguard arrayed against them, each armed with crossbows and levelling them at the women. Natalie noticed she’d stopped, turning to look at the men.

The first bolt sprouted from her left shoulder, a small spray of her blood meeting the rain. The second entered her right shoulder, sending her stumbling back a step. Natalie only gave a small grunt of surprise at the two projectiles now in her body. Two more bolts suddenly protruded from her stomach. She coughed, a few drops of blood running down her chin and dripping onto her chest.

Natalie fell to her knees, shocked these men had been able to sneak up on them. Serana made to move forward and engage them, but was stopped by Natalie’s arm, gently pushing her back. She calmly placed her hands on her thighs, staring at her blood as it dripped onto the ground beneath her.

“How could you do it?” Torbald’s voice cut through the air, hurting Natalie more than the bolts currently stuck within her chest. “How could you betray us all Natalie? How could you become everything you promised to help us fight?”

Natalie reached up, ripping both of the bolts out of her stomach. Her hands lightly glowed as her wounds and clothes repaired themselves. Torbald’s words caused her rage to swell within her. Serana could feel the power coming off her in waves, charging the air around them with magic. Small sparks of lightning arced between her tattoos, some rising off her skin to strike the ground around her. She wrenched the final two bolts from her shoulders, injuries automatically closing and stemming the flow of her blood. Natalie clenched her fists so hard, her fingernails cut through her skin on her right hand, sending her blood to the mud in a fresh flow.

“Betrayal?” Natalie’s whisper was deafening, causing every member of the Dawnguard arrayed against her to stumble back. “You speak to me of betrayal?” She raised her eyes to meet Torbald’s, flickering to the crossbow still levelled at the centre of her chest. “Don’t speak to me of betrayal like you know what it is, BOY.” Natalie rose to her feet, her cloak falling from her shoulders. She lowered her eyes, trying futilely to quell the anger boiling up inside her.

Natalie’s runes began to pulse red, becoming more insistent until they were a steady shining light. Serana could even see the ones down her back, her armour not thick enough to block out their power. The lightning turned red with their radiance, sparking more erratically between them and burning the ground wherever they struck. When she met Torbald’s eyes once more, they were consumed by red, the other Dawnguard members backing away in fear. “Run. All of you.”

They all obeyed her command except Torbald, standing defiant against her. “I will not run. Not from you. You betrayed us. I need to know why.”

Natalie ignored his comment, “You want to know the worst betrayal I have ever suffered through?” She flashed forward, breaking Torbald’s crossbow into two pieces, tossing them aside. “It’s not all the people who have literally stabbed me in the back. It’s not friends turning their back on me because of who I am.” She struck Torbald in the chest, his feet leaving the ground before landing on his back some distance away. “It was your grandfather.”

Torbald coughed, struggling to form words, “What…?”

“He never told you, did he? Why would he? I hope the memory haunts him to his dying breath.” She rushed forward at inhuman speed, standing over Torbald, the point of a silver sword nearly touching his throat. “He betrayed me the moment he told me to stay away from my own daughter.”

Torbald’s face creased with confusion, unsure of this new development. How could Ralof tell her that? Why would he have any control over the Dragonborn’s daughter? Unless... His eyes widened with realisation.

“Oh! You get it now, do you?” Natalie lowered the point of her sword. “Have you never wondered why your mother never seemed to age? Have you never wondered why she never talks about her own mother?!” Natalie turned away from him, sheathing the sword even while the sky above reacted to her anger, the rain intensifying as thunder wracked through the clouds. “She never even knew me. Ralof forced me out before she even had a CHANCE to know me.”

Torbald swallowed, unsure if he wanted to hear more, “Why?”

“Why? WHY?! Why the fuck do you think, boy? I’m dangerous. My life is dangerous. Everything around me is dangerous.” Every word hit home at Natalie’s core, laying out her greatest shame for him to hear. “I agreed with him at the time. Ralof had the right idea. I was too dangerous to be around. To raise a child around. I did not consider all that’d he done a betrayal. Until years later.” She whirled back to face her grandson, “Twice more. Ralof wronged me twice more. I came back, my daughter nearly a full-grown woman herself. I just wanted to see her. Tell her I loved her, and I was sorry for leaving her. Maybe explain why I had to. And what does Ralof do? He tells me to leave, yet again.” Tears formed in her eyes, “I DIDN’T EVEN GET TO LAY EYES ON MY OWN DAUGHTER!”

“And the second?” Torbald flinched, unwilling to meet the elf’s gaze.

“I’ve only seen my daughter a few times after she’d grown up. The first was 20 years ago. You were barely born, still a babe in the crib.” Natalie choked up, the words becoming harder to form, “Do you know the first thing I told my daughter after telling her I even existed?”

 

* * *

 

**Turdas, 9:40am, 17 th of Hearthfire, 4E 237**

**Forest Near Falkreath**

 

Natalie inserted her knife into the deer’s carcass, calmly running it down the length of its belly. She had heard the man from a mile away, fully aware of him approaching from behind. She continued her work, cutting away the pelt and butchering the animal. A bag lay next to her, full of her meat for the next several weeks.

She rose to her full height, shaking her hands out. Her arms were covered in blood up to her elbows, some of it splattered on her face. Without turning, Natalie spoke out loud, “I think that’s close enough.” The man froze, gripping his sword’s hilt in the scabbard more tightly. “You’ve got about five seconds to start running. I can’t promise what will happen after that.”

Natalie turned to face the man, staring into his eyes. A young Nord stood in front of him, about 30 years old if she had to guess. “I just wanted to know why.” Natalie raised an eyebrow, waiting for the Nord to make himself clearer. “Why did you abandon your daughter?”

Natalie’s eyes narrowed, “Excuse me?”

“You’re the Dragonborn, and you just abandon her for no reason?”

Natalie’s hardened her expression, amazed at the audacity of the man in front of her, “First, how do you know who I am? Second, you don’t know me or my life. Third, who the fuck do you think you are to make accusations at me?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am or how I know who you are. I need a straight answer from you.”

Natalie turned away, picking up her bag and walking away from the man. “Go home, boy. I don’t owe you an answer for anything.”

He strode after her, reaching out to grab her shoulder, “Now wait just a-”

The Dragonborn reacted immediately, letting go of her bag and grabbing his arm. She twisted her body, using the Nord’s weight against him, sending him soaring over her shoulder to collide heavily with a tree. She heard the satisfying snap as several of his ribs broke upon impact. He struggled to rise, groaning with pain. When he lifted his head, he was staring down the point of a black-metal sword, inches from his face. Natalie’s eyes were dangerously locked on his own. “This is your final warning. Go. Away. Forget all about me. Come after me again, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Natalie sheathed her sword, striding away from the injured Nord. He coughed, clutching at his broken bones, “It’s good you’re not in her life then. If this is the way you treat people who ask you a question.” She continued walking away, ignoring his comment. “You never really cared, did you? Popped her out, then said ‘fuck this, I’m out’.”

“Shut up.” Natalie stopped walking, small flames curling around her clenched fists.

The Nord shakily stood to his feet, “If you even remotely gave a shit about your daughter, you would’ve stayed.”

“I said… shut up.” She remained facing away from him, the flames making their way further up her arm, burning brighter with each passing moment. Blood boiled off her arms in a red mist, surrounding her in a dark haze.

He made his way closer to her, his voice growing louder, “You never even considered trying again, did you? Never once thought your daughter might be happy knowing you.”

Natalie’s fury boiled over, spinning to face the man making heinous accusations as her. “YOU WANT THE REAL ANSWER THEN?” Her yell shook the surrounding forest, scaring birds and deer away from their position. She shoved the Nord hard in the chest, her fiery hands making smouldering patches on his tunic. “YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I’VE NEVER ONCE SEEN MY DAUGHTER SINCE SHE WAS BORN?!” Natalie’s pushing became more forceful, bending the bones underneath the skin and setting his clothing alight. She hit him once more, breaking his ribs even further before lifting him up by the remains of his tunic. Natalie slammed him into a tree, knocking the wind out of him and blurring his vision from where his head hit the wood. “DO YOU?!”

The Nord could do nothing but stare down at the enraged elf. Fury like he had never seen before burned within her eyes, his blood running cold knowing it was at least partly directed at him. He nodded as best he could, his senses blurred from where he’d struck his head.

“You really think I wanted to stay away? You think I’m so cold-hearted, I’d willingly leave my own flesh and blood before she’s even capable of knowing who I am?” She shuddered, trying to stop the memories flooding her mind. The day Ralof told her to stay away. The day she’d left for good. The day she’d come back, only to be turned away. “It was never my choice. Only an order from her father.” Natalie let her grip loosen, the man collapsing to the ground. She stumbled back a step, flames intensifying further around her. The memories held her mind in a vice, forcing her to relive them over and over. “You think I didn’t want to be her mother? I never got the chance.”

The Nord could only watch on in horror as Natalie clutched at the sides of her head, digging metal and flesh digits into her scalp. She grunted under the weight of the memories, trying with all her willpower to stop them. He could see her control slipping by the second, flames licking at his boots. “Dragonborn… you’ve got to stop.” He tried to crawl away, every movement agony.

Natalie’s eyes glassed over, every memory flashing past in rapid succession. “It’s all his fault. I wanted to be there. He told me to go. Get out. _YOU HAVE TO GO NATALIE! YOU’RE TOO DANGEROUS TO BE AROUND HER!_ ” This man had successfully opened the floodgates she’d long ago closed. “ _YOU’LL ONLY BRING PAIN TO HER NAT! NOTHING BUT DEATH, PAIN AND SORROW!_ ” Her control of her magic completely disappeared, erratic flames igniting the trees around her. “ _But…but… I’m Maralin’s mother, she needs a mother. NOT ONE WHO CAN’T BE THERE FOR HER AT ALL TIMES. YOU’LL RUN OFF LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO TO SOME CRISIS OR ANOTHER!_ ” She fell to her knees, sobbing in rage and pain as a new memory clouded her mind. “ _WHY DID YOU COME BACK?_ _I just want to see her Ralof… please._ _NO. GO AWAY NATALIE. SHE’S SAFE WITHOUT YOU. Please… she doesn’t even have to know who I am_. _I SAID NO! GET OUT!_ ”

Flames pulsed away from the elf, consuming everything in their path. The Nord could feel his legs burning as he barely managed to get to his feet, hobbling away from the inferno rapidly incinerating the forest around Natalie.

Suddenly, the fire retreated, the roaring of its intensity ceasing all at once. The Nord fell to the ground in relief, breathing harder than he thought he ever had. He attempted to ignore the pain from his ribs and burns, sitting up against a tree and staring at the centre of the destruction. Natalie had fallen onto her hands and knees, breathing just as hard, finally breaking through the shell of her own mind and gaining control of her power once more. She was drenched in sweat from the exertion, dripping down onto the burnt ground only to instantaneously boil when it hit.

Natalie barely managed to clamber to her feet, blinking away the dizziness of her outburst. Soon several bottles surrounded her feet, their blue contents coating her throat as they slid down it. She looked back at the Nord, finding him staring at her. She marched over, standing over him. Her vibrant green eyes were no longer filled with the rage he’d seen before, only overwhelming sadness. “Now… do you see why I haven’t seen my daughter? Do you see why I can’t? I lose control just thinking about any memory even remotely related to her.”

He swallowed, unsure if he should continue with what he wanted to say, “I see a broken woman.” Natalie’s eyes widened, taken aback by his words, “A baby torn away from her for something she couldn’t have foreseen or done anything about.” He looked down at his hands, running them repeatedly over one another, “Ralof… he told me it was your choice. That you’d walked away from Maralin because you wanted nothing to do with her. If that-” He coughed, “-outburst… was your memories… the exact opposite is true. I should be angry at Ralof for driving you away… not you abandoning your daughter.”

Natalie stared at the Nord with fresh eyes, “Why… why did Ralof tell you any of this? Who are you?”

A pained smile crossed his face, “I suppose your son-in-law. Your daughter’s husband anyhow. Svarlod.”

The elf’s eyes widened at the news. “I… I… I almost killed my daughter’s husband…” Natalie instantly fell to her knees at his side, “I’m so sorry. Here, let me heal those injuries.” Her glowing hands quickly repaired all the damage she’d caused, Svarlod releasing a sigh of relief as his bones shifted back into place and his burns sealed over with new skin.

“Thank you. Frankly, I deserved what you gave me. I levelled horrifying accusations at you with only one side of the story… you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He straightened his back, trying to look as serious as he could. “I am sorry, Natalie.”

Natalie cocked her head at the young man, trying in vain to figure out his motive. “Svarlod… why did you track me down? Surely not to only ask why I haven’t been there for my daughter.”

Svarlod’s eyes fell from Natalie’s gaze, “Well, I asked Maralin about her mother. She only said her mother had disappeared days after she was born. And when I asked Ralof… it took me a while to coach some sort of truth from him.” He looked back up into Natalie’s eyes, “He told me you’d left with no explanation, even after he’d asked you for one, leaving him to raise Maralin alone.”

“He got one thing right at least.” Natalie sighed, rubbing at her eyes, “Look, Svarlod, Ralof was partially right about me. I’m too dangerous to be around Maralin. People who get close to me almost always wind up getting hurt.”

“Don’t you think she should be the one to decide that?”

Natalie chuckled, “If she’s anything like me, she’s stubborn and will tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

“Exactly. There is one other reason I came to find you.”

Natalie’s curiosity was piqued, “What is it?”

“It happened about a month ago.” Svarlod breathed out slowly, “You have a grandson. Look, I want my son to grow up knowing as much of his family as possible. If that includes reuniting my wife with her mother, I’m all for it.”

Every word after grandson fell on deaf ears. Natalie sat in silence, trying to comprehend what she’d been told. She’d closed that chapter of her life more than a decade ago. She had resigned herself to never having a family. It was never in the cards for her. But, now here she was, not only being invited to actually be involved in her daughter’s life, but also that she had another family member of her own blood.

“Ralof… he’ll just tell me to get out again.” Svarlod laughed heartily at her, ignoring the still slight phantom pain from his ribs, Natalie narrowing her eyes at him, “What?”

“You’re the Dragonborn, probably the most powerful person currently alive, and you’re worried about an old man telling you no?”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just show up after over thirty years and be there for her.”

“Why not?”

“Because, I…” Natalie was at a loss for words. Why couldn’t she? What had been stopping her all these years from standing up to that man and telling him to get out of her way?

“Right.” The young Nord climbed to his feet, “Off we go then.”

“What? Where?” Svarlod’s sudden words snapped Natalie out of her stupor.

“To meet your daughter and grandson of course.”

 

* * *

 

**Turdas, 7:00pm, 17 th of Hearthfire, 4E 237**

**Riverwood**

Natalie alighted from Shadowmere, lightly tapping her rump and sending her galloping away from the village. She took the reins of Svarlod’s horse, tying them to the hitching post some distance from the house. Natalie swallowed as she looked at the building that contained one of the biggest failures of her life. They made their way closer to the door. Natalie felt her steps becoming heavier and heavier as they drew closer. Her nervousness felt like it might crush the life from her chest.

As they reached the door, Svarlod moved ahead, drawing a key from his pocket. Natalie removed her weapons, laying them down on the wooden porch. As she rose back up, Natalie’s ears twitched at a sound. A baby. A baby crying. The cry became more insistent as the door opened, invading Natalie’s senses until everything else was drowned out by it. She froze on the front porch even as Svarlod made his way inside. He turned back, finding Natalie staring inside, unblinking.

He motioned with his hand, prompting Natalie to move inside. The noise of the door shutting made Natalie jump, snapping her attention to the house’s interior. She stood near the front door, afraid to move any further inside lest she broke something.

Natalie’s breath caught in her throat as a young woman came down the stairs, a small bundle of cloth in her arms. The woman kissed Svarlod on the cheek, “Where are your parents? I thought you were going to get them to meet Torbald?”

“I… got side tracked.” His eyes flitted to Natalie, the woman’s eyes focusing onto her as well.

“Oh? Who’s this?” Natalie couldn’t take her eyes off her. The long auburn hair, the exact same colour as her own. The ever so slightly pointed ears poking through the mane of hair. The kind smile Natalie once had. Her skin, only just a touch lighter shade than her own.

“I said I was going to fetch my parents. I did fetch a parent, just not mine…” Natalie let her eyes leave her daughter, focusing on a knot in the wooden floor.

Maralin stared at the woman in her home in complete shock. She couldn’t deny the resemblance. The hair alone gave it away. No one else in the village or anyone else she’d ever met had quite the same hair colour. The pointed ears even further. She knew she was half Wood Elf, but rarely leaving Riverwood gave her little chance to meet another Wood Elf for herself. None of the ones passing through looked anything like her.

Maralin wanted to be angry. She wanted to banish this woman from her home and tell her to never come back. She needed to be furious with the woman in front of her. But the closer she looked, the more the fury drained from her. She saw the gauntlet on one hand, the scariest piece of metal she’d ever seen. She saw the tattoos down her bare right arm. But she could also see the scars criss-crossing between the markings. She could sense the deep shame radiating off of this woman. This woman had suffered throughout her life, that much was obvious. No, not just some woman… her mother.

“Here, hold him.” Maralin handed Svarlod their son, wrapping the cloth more tightly around him. “Mummy will be back in a minute, okay?”

She strode across the room to stand in front of Natalie. After barely a second’s hesitation, she threw her arms around her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. Natalie stood completely still. She was in utter shock, staring over her daughter’s shoulder at Svarlod. Before she could stop herself, her arms came up, wrapping around Maralin as tight as she could.

Tears filled both daughter and mother’s eyes at being reunited after so long. Natalie said the words she’d been holding in for decades, “I’m so sorry Maralin. I should’ve been here a long time ago. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back. I’m sorry-”

“Stop.” Maralin’s voice cut Natalie short. “I’m just happy you’re here now. I think I always knew you’d come back.” She pulled back, leaving her hands on Natalie’s shoulders, smiles beaming on both their faces. “You came back and you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” She took Natalie’s right hand, gently pulling her across the room, “Now, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Maralin took the baby from Svarlod, holding him out to Natalie, “I’d like you to meet your grandson, Torbald.”

Natalie gingerly took the small bundle into her arms, being as careful as she could to keep her gauntlet behind him and not accidentally injure him with it. His head rested in the crook of her left elbow, big blue eyes staring up at her. Natalie’s smile grew wider, happiness overwhelming her, “Hello, little one. I’m your grandma!” She reached up with her right hand, tickling under his chin. Torbald’s laughter spilled across the room. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?”

Maralin watched on as Natalie played with Torbald, amazed that this woman could be her mother. Her father had said she’d left with no explanation whatsoever. Like she never even cared about her at all. Seeing her now, Maralin was convinced there was something her father had never told her about her mother. Something he’d hid from her about this woman who could almost be her twin.

“Mum.” Natalie looked up at her daughter with a giant grin on her face. Maralin knew she’d regret it if she never asked the question that had been burning in her mind as long as she could remember, “I have to ask, why did you leav-”

Their conversation was interrupted by the front door opening. “Those are some pretty fancy weapons out the front there.” The front door closed as Natalie seized up, all mirth draining from her face. “Where did you ge-”

Ralof’s voice stopped, catching sight of Natalie facing away from him across the room. Natalie handed Torbald back to Maralin, choosing to keep her back to the father of her child. “What are you doing here Natalie? I thought I made myself clear.” He strode across the room, grabbing onto her left shoulder, “You need to leave. Now.”

Natalie spun, knocking the hand from her shoulder and slamming the palm of her gauntlet into the centre of Ralof’s chest. He was taken off his feet, heavily colliding with the opposite wall. Natalie marched across, picking him up onto his feet by the scruff of his tunic and holding him against the wall, gauntlet’s spikes pressing into his throat. “NO. I’m not going to leave. Not this time. But you’re going to do something for me. Explain something to me. Explain why you lied to our daughter about me.” She released her hold, pointing across the room at Maralin, “Why don’t you tell Maralin the real reason why I left?”

“I… I…” Ralof stammered out, staring into Natalie’s rage and sorrow filled eyes.

“Why don’t you tell my daughter the real reason I had to leave. TELL HER IT WAS YOU WHO MADE ME LEAVE.” Natalie’s yell shook the house, “TELL HER YOU TOLD ME TO LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK! TELL HER YOU, NOT ME, BUT YOU. YOU ARE THE REASON SHE NEVER HAD A MOTHER!” Natalie scoffed, turning away and standing in the middle of the room, looking into Maralin’s eyes with tears in her own, “Tell her I tried to come back ten years ago, and you, once more, ORDERED me to leave.” Her eyes fell to ground, unable to meet her daughter’s gaze, “It would’ve been kinder to say I was dead.”

Maralin gaped at the man she’d idolised her whole life. The one she’d considered a hero for fighting in a war that needed to be fought. Now she learned he was responsible for one of the greatest pains she’d ever felt. “Dad... is this true? Did you tell my mother to leave?”

Ralof couldn’t bring himself to answer, simply slumping to the floor, resigning himself to the anger completely directed at him.

Maralin choked up, staring in disbelief between her mother and father. Angry tears rolled down her cheeks. She marched to the front door, swinging it open and looking to the ground. “Dad... Ralof. Get out.”

Ralof looked up at his daughter, “Maralin... please... I never meant-”

“I SAID GET OUT!” Maralin’s scream felt like a knife to Ralof’s heart. He knew he deserved this. He'd just hoped he would never have to face his daughter’s wrath for his actions. The instant he was beyond the threshold of the door, Maralin slammed it as hard as she could, the force reverberating throughout the house.

Natalie turned her daughter and pulled Maralin into her arms, softly stroking the back of her head. She clutched at her mother’s back, tears running down the front of Natalie’s armour. They stood there for several minutes, completely silent except for the quiet sobbing of Maralin’s rage.

When she finally felt like she’d calmed down enough, she looked up into Natalie’s forest green eyes, “I’m sorry he did that to you. I wish… I wish we could get all that time back.”

Natalie led her to an armchair, calmly sitting down on a couch opposite and taking her hands into her own. “I know. So do I.” Natalie sighed, “This will be the last thing you want to hear right now. But, don’t judge him too harshly. I know he separated us, but he still loved you. He wanted what was best, and did what he thought was necessary, even if he was wrong.” Natalie looked up into her daughter’s eyes, “I’ll never forgive him for pushing me out of your life. I don’t think you should either.” She gave a light squeeze to Maralin’s hands, “But… he was right about one thing. I couldn’t have been there your whole life. I love you more than anything in the world. But, as Dragonborn and the whole host of other responsibilities…”

Maralin stared down at their interlocked hands, “I know. But you still would’ve been there for at least some of it. Instead, the first time I meet you is thirty years into my life. You didn’t see my wedding; you weren’t there to help me through being pregnant. You didn’t see my first steps, my first words, any of it! And it’s all his fault!”

The elf sighed, “Yes. It is. But cut him out, and you’re just following his example. Please Maralin, I know you’re better than that. Better than both of us. So be better. Learn from both our mistakes.”

Maralin stood, going to Svarlod and taking Torbald from him. She came back over and sat next to Natalie, leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.” Natalie tickled under Torbald’s chin once more, laughter erupting in the room. “I will say, you have a beautiful son.” Natalie held her gauntlet over the top of the baby, allowing small sparks of lightning to run between the digits. Torbald reached up, the magic connecting with his hand and causing the small amount of hair on his head to stand on end.

Maralin laughed, “Could you teach me that?”

“Well, you are my daughter. I’m sure you’ve got at least some magical potential.”

Natalie spent the next several hours playing with Torbald and teaching Maralin several small spells. Just as she suspected, her daughter picked up the magic easily. Luckily, she didn’t have the power to make her tattoos necessary, just enough to make everyday tasks easier and to make for easy entertainment for her son.

The Dragonborn smiled to herself. She knew she couldn’t stay here forever, but even this brief respite with the daughter she couldn’t be more proud of was enough. She hadn’t felt this level of happiness in a long time, even if it had been slightly dampened by seeing Ralof once more. The smile remained on her face even through the next day as she rode Shadowmere slowly back home. She'd told Maralin where she lived, and to come if she ever needed anything.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 10:50am, 5 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Entrance to Dayspring Canyon**

 

Torbald sat in stunned silence, eyes unable to leave his grandmother’s. All this new information had left him almost comatose, completely incapable of forming a single word in response.

“I had to tell your mother she’d been betrayed by her own father. Your grandfather told my daughter I'd left with no explanation. That I didn’t love her. That I never wanted her. If you want to see what betrayal looks like, go home, and look in that old man’s face. Go home, and ask your mother about him. Ask her about me.” Natalie started laughing, a booming sound that echoed through the storm, “And you know the funny part? When you brought me to him, he acted like there had never been anything between us. That we didn’t share a child or a grandchild. He acted like we were just old friends.”

Torbald’s mind raced as he tried to process what Natalie was telling him. First, they were related. That alone would've been enough to elicit this response from him. Second, his grandfather had known all along that he was sending him to find his own grandmother. Third, that his grandfather had betrayed Natalie so severely, they hadn’t even spoken in decades until he forced them together. All this information explained so much of his life. Why his mother and grandfather never saw eye to eye. Why he’d never heard anything about his grandmother from anyone, even when he’d asked about her. Why some of the villagers always gave his grandfather strange looks when they were out together.

Natalie reigned her powers in, her fangs retracting and eyes turning back to normal. “Tell me I've betrayed anyone again, come after me with intention to attack me again,” Natalie bent right down till her eyes were mere inches from Torbald’s, “And I will drag you back home kicking and screaming to your mother, and you can tell her you tried to kill me.”

The Dragonborn strode back to Serana, beckoning her to follow. They made it a few steps before Torbald’s voice rang out, “Why? Why did you become a vampire?”

Natalie stopped, looking back over her shoulder with sadness in her eyes, “I was dying Torbald. I... I couldn’t leave your mother again. This was the only way.”

“Natalie.” Natalie didn’t turn around this time, but remained still, “The Dawnguard will be there if you need them. Just send word, and I’ll make sure.” Her head turned ever so slightly, a small nod all she gave before turning away. She continued on her way, leaving her grandson in the mud to think on what she’d told him.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 11:30am, 5 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Fort Dawnguard**

 

Torbald looked up at the fortress, the rain beating down on his face. He strode up to the front door, determined to do exactly what he needed to do. Soldiers parted as he made his way through them, searching for Isran. He found him in the main room, giving orders to nearly every single soldier of the Dawnguard.

“Listen up. We have new intel. The Dragonborn has turned on us. Betrayed us in the worst way possible. I know this is surprising to many of you but… She has become a vampire, and therefore, an enemy of us all.” Shocked gasps reverberated through the crowd, whispers almost deafening. “I will be sending many of you out into the field to hunt her down. I know some of you may be uncomfortable with this. You must put that aside for the good of Skyrim. Do I make myself clear?”

“YES SIR!” Obedient as they were, they didn’t for one moment question Isran’s orders. They didn’t even consider the ramifications of the actions. They would all die if they even attempted to take down Natalie, and only Torbald seemed to realise that.

Torbald made his way through the crowd, pushing soldiers out of the way to get closer. Isran caught sight of him, nodded in respect before turning back to the crowd. He didn’t seem to notice Torbald until he’d made his way around the table and was almost touching him. “I assume you were not successful then?”

“That I was not.” Torbald raised his voice slightly, “And neither will any of the Dawnguard.”

Silence fell over the room as Isran turned back to Torbald, “Excuse me?”

The leader of the Dawnguard didn’t even see the attack coming. Torbald swung with all his might, catching Isran’s temple with his fist. The Redguard dropped immediately, instantly unconscious from the blow. Torbald pointed at guards on the side of the room, “You two. Lock him in the cells.” They hesitated, looking between one another as more whispers started. Torbald’s voice became far more forceful, “Did I fucking stutter? NOW.” The two guards obeyed the order, dragging Isran’s body away. Torbald turned to the amassed soldiers, “Ignore all orders that Isran has given. He is no longer in command. I will take on all his responsibilities and lead the Dawnguard against this threat. Isran’s judgement is askew, and he will only bring death upon you all. The Dragonborn is not a target, nor a threat. If I catch any word of disobedience on this matter, I will not hesitate to lock you in there with him for mutiny. Understood?”

A much more enthusiastic yell sounded, “YES SIR!” Torbald could hear sighs of relief from many of them, obviously not looking forward to attempting to go after one of the most powerful beings on the face of Tamriel, especially not that she had vampiric powers to top her already immense strength.

“Here are your new orders. All members of the Dawnguard will prepare for battle. The call may come at any time. We have to be ready. When the Dragonborn calls, we will be there. WE WILL FIGHT WITH HER. WE WILL DEFEAT THE ENEMY WITH HER. AND WHEN ITS ALL SAID AND DONE, WE WILL SAVE TAMRIEL FROM THIS THREAT ONCE AND FOR ALL. NOW… WHO’S WITH ME?!” Cheers erupted in the citadel, ecstatic at their new leadership and his new direction for them. Torbald smiled out at them, “FOR THE DAWNGUARD! FOR SKYRIM! FOR TAMRIEL!” The cheers became even louder, Torbald’s confidence soaring to new heights.

He would help his grandmother at all costs. He would help the Dragonborn defeat this enemy. He would make her proud to call him family.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 11:30am, 5 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**West of Dayspring Canyon**

 

Further away from the Dawnguard’s base, the rain began to ease up. The two women continued on their way, making for the grove where they hoped to read the Elder Scrolls and finally get the location for Auriel’s Bow. With that, they could end this whole mess, and Natalie could get back to her life.

Serana had remained silent since leaving Torbald behind. She broke it gingerly, “So… a daughter then?”

Natalie looked at her companion, narrowing her eyes at the elder vampire, “Yes. I have a daughter.”

“What you said to my mother then… comes from personal experience?”

Natalie stopped, sighing as she rubbed at her eyes, “Serana… I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life. Especially where it involves my daughter. I know my situation doesn’t exactly compare to yours… but I was able to repair my relationship with my daughter, at least somewhat. If I can help you do that in any way, shape or form with your mother, it will be worth it.”

Serana smiled at her, “Thank you. I don’t think I said it at the time, but it meant a lot that you tried.”

Natalie smiled back, “You’re welcome.” She clapped her hands together, starting to move ahead, “Right, time to see if I go blind, or get a fancy new bow.”

Serana laughed and followed the Dragonborn in the direction of the grove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	14. The Vision

**Fredas, 7:20pm, 7 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Pine Forest, Falkreath Hold**

 

Natalie and Serana made their way through the forest, making for the mountains on its borders. They’d decided that the grove Dexion spoke of would have to be at the edge of the woods, the only place that made logical sense. As the trees began to thin out, Natalie immediately started searching the landscape just below where the mountains met the night sky.

“He could’ve been more specific.” Natalie grumbled to herself, annoyed they hadn’t gotten an exact location for the all-important cave.

“We did leave under… trying circumstances.”

Natalie sighed, “And hopefully it doesn’t come back to bite me. I just hope Torbald can sort things out with Isran, maybe not send the entire Dawnguard after us.”

They finally broke free of the trees, the ground steadily inclining towards Skyrim’s border. Wherever Natalie looked, it was more of the same. Jagged outcrops of rock or small sections of wooded hills. Nothing screamed ancient special grove to her. A few crumbling ruins caught her eye, but none of them panned out, empty of anything but dried up bones.

Natalie froze as she felt a sudden fluttering above her head. She whipped her head to look up, finding nothing above her. Her hand smoothed down the hair on top of her head, finding nothing but the mane of auburn and grey locks. She shook her head, writing the strange feeling off as a light breeze.

Next, her right ear had the same feeling. Her hand sped up to catch whatever touched it, finding nothing but air, flesh and her hair. Serana cocked an eyebrow at her strange behaviour, “Are you alright Natalie?”

Natalie seemed to not hear the other vampire’s comment. The elf turned to the right, searching the air in front of her for anything that could have given her this feeling. She crept forward, slowly building speed until she was sprinting across the ground. Serana quickly gave chase, curious as to the reason for Natalie’s actions.

The Dragonborn abruptly stopped, looking up a small path through some rocks to a cave entrance. Serana almost crashed into her, but managed to spin slightly and avoid a collision. The odd feeling came back again, this time with a feeling of a small weight resting on the top of her head. The object fluttered against her hair, two light touches either side of it before all movement stopped.

Serana stared at the top of Natalie’s head. Her eyes widened when she realised what it was. A large moth had landed on the crown of the elf’s head, resting its body amongst the auburn mane. Natalie raised her hand cautiously, trying her hardest not to move any of the rest of her body and startle the insect. She stopped once her hand had nearly reached the moth. It moved forward, alighting onto the offered perch, tucking its wings in line with its body.

Natalie slowly lowered her hand, studying the huge insect. It was unlike any moth she had ever seen, far larger than all of its counterparts. The design on its wings looked alien, almost like it was shifting. The patterns seemed familiar, like she’d seen them somewhere.

The knowledge hit Natalie. These were the same inscriptions as the ones carved into the Elder Scrolls. Her eyes widened as she looked from the moth, up to the cave entrance and back again. The moth seemed to be studying Natalie as intently as she studied it. A small flap of its wings and it took off, flying into the mouth of the cave and disappearing into the darkness within.

Natalie smiled at Serana briefly before following the insect, picking her way through the small rocky canyon towards the cave. The smell of flowers and pine trees filled her senses the closer she came. Even with her enhanced vampiric sight, she could not make out a single thing beyond the cave’s entrance. The darkness within was all consuming, foreboding to all who came upon it. The soft moonlight from above did nothing to penetrate it, if anything, only serving to warn any who came near to stay away. This was not a place for exploring, only for its sacred purpose. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ancestor Grove, just like Dexion said.” Natalie moved off before Serana could protest, immediately swallowed by the darkness. Serana slowly followed, keeping her arms in front of her to at least avoid running into anything. Both women travelled for several minutes, their senses utterly useless to discern their surroundings. A soft light appeared suddenly in the distance.

Serana increased her pace slightly till she was walking side by side with Natalie, making their way towards the gentle glow. The sound of flowing water and rustling leaves entered their ears, calming Natalie’s nerves about the gravity of the task they were here to perform. They finally reached the end of the all-consuming darkness, coming into the light.

The two women were confronted with a large cavern, filled with trees, a small brook running through the centre. A path wandered lazily through them, reaching a place out of their line of sight. They both fell silent at the beauty of their surroundings. Natalie caught sight of a few moths, hiding among the needles of the pine trees. The more she looked, the more moths were visible. The glade was full of them, and if Dexion was right, they were the key to all of this.

The path guided them through the trees, somehow completely bare of needles despite the obvious length of time since anyone had last been here. Natalie walked alongside the stone of the path itself, savouring the spring of the pine under her bare feet. The softness soothed her feet from the slight ache she felt from walking so far in the last several months. She didn’t even notice that the trees now towered over and surrounded her, their entrance into the glade completely hidden from view.

Serana watched Natalie with a careful eye, a slight grin curling her lips at the bliss on Natalie’s face. She hadn’t seen Natalie relax in weeks, the stress of the whole situation had gotten to her, just as it had been almost overwhelming Serana herself. She couldn’t deny the atmosphere of the glade was something special. It radiated peacefulness, drawing both women’s thoughts away from the horrible situation they found themselves in. The moths in the trees emitted a fine dust, landing on their hair and shoulders. Serana swore an almost imperceptible glow came off them, illuminating them with an otherworldly light.

Travelling along the path led them to the centre of the glade. A tree much larger than the rest dominated a small clearing, far more moths among its branches than any other. Natalie marvelled up at it, astounded this entire forest could exist in a cave, let alone thrive as it had. She craned her neck further up, spotting a small hole in the ceiling that bathed the area in dim moonlight. The path stopped at the edge of the clearing, leaving only the needles of the pine trees leading to the tree.

Natalie ran her hand over the bark of the great centre tree, amazed it could grow this large in this environment. She pulled the Draw Knife from her bandolier, holding the two-handed blade out in front of her. She looked over her shoulder at Serana, “Dexion didn’t say anything more than cut the bark, did he?”

Serana intoned with a small smile, “And the moths will give you the sight.”

Natalie looked up at the tree seeing the beady eyes of the moths staring down at her. This should have unnerved her, but it did the opposite, calming her nerves about possibly losing her sight. She brought the knife forward, easily cutting through the park and levering off a sheet of it. A flutter of wings erupted from the tree but quickly died down, the moths resuming their careful watch of the elf.

Natalie backed away from the tree, bark in hand. She looked back at Serana, quizzical look on her face. “Got the bark. I guess we wait now?”

“I guess so. Dexion wasn’t any more specific, so I suppose that’s all we can do.”

Natalie kneeled in front of the tree, closing her eyes and placing the bark in front of her. Serana sat down nearby, hugging her knees to her chest and keeping a watch over Natalie. At first, nothing happened. There was complete silence except for the bubbling of the nearby creek.

The light flapping of wings invaded Natalie’s ears, stopping as it got closer to her. She kept her eyes closed. She could hear tiny insect legs moving slowly over the ground towards her. They pressed against her legs, sending a slight shudder down her spine. She somehow managed to maintain her stillness as the feeling spread over her body. Natalie could feel them everywhere, not an inch of her except for her head was free of it.

All movement stopped. Natalie could feel things resting over her entire body, clinging to her form. Louder fluttering than before filled her senses. A moth alighted onto the top of her head, nestling itself among her hair. Her eyes remained closed, feeling that the ritual was not yet complete. More fluttering echoed in the forest, even more of the moths flying over to Natalie. They settled onto her face, covering her eyes with their wings. Natalie felt warmth spread throughout her body, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

Serana watched on in wonder as clouds of moths landed on Natalie, almost completely hiding her from view. They formed a barrier around her with their wings, becoming just as still as their landing zone. As soon as Natalie was hidden from even Serana’s sight, it happened.

Natalie began to glow, the same almost imperceptible glow that Serana had noticed before. Soon, she was a beacon of light, shining through the dense forest. The moths slowly peeled away from the elf, but the glow remained. Once they’d all flown off, Natalie’s eyes opened, staring at the bark of the tree.

Her sight was different than before. Some of the trees were dulled from her, some in incredible detail. The moths were instantly visible, even through solid objects. There were hundreds of them all around her. Her eyes turned downwards, marvelling at the glow that encircled her. Her gauntlet looked almost holy in this light, despite its nefarious origins. She turned to look at Serana. The woman was surrounded by a shimmering aura, emanating from behind her. Natalie could see through her to the three Elder Scrolls strapped across her back. She could still see the vampire’s face however, as beautiful as ever.

Serana watched as the elf turned to her. Natalie’s eyes were completely different. Her irises and pupils had faded away, leaving only the white of her eyes. The glow flowed out from her eyes, enveloping her small frame, but it still seemed to shy away from the eyes themselves. Natalie held out a hand, beckoning for the first scroll. Serana hesitantly pulled the three from behind her back, laying them down in front of her.

Natalie took the first scroll, prepared to find where Auriel’s Bow was hidden. She breathed deeply, looking to Serana, who only nodded, spurring her on to dive in and do it. Her gauntlet shook slightly as she lifted the scroll in front of her, grasping the small tassel with her right hand that would reveal the legendary parchment to her eyes.

She pulled. All light in the room dimmed as the scroll unfurled, its own eerie radiance forcing it away. The only other light was from Natalie herself, glowing just as brightly as the scroll itself. The two sources seemed to battle for dominance, creating a division in the air between them. Her vision was instantly consumed by the scroll’s contents. Everything surrounding the scroll’s parchment disappeared from her view, the scroll the only thing she could see, perhaps the only thing she was capable of seeing. She saw Skyrim, from upon high. The entire province stretched out before her, every mountain, river and even the people revealed to her sight. This was a view she’d never seen before, so magnificent that a small tear fell from the corner of her eye. She felt a slight tug to the west, eyes focusing in on the mountains at its borders. The sea beyond stretched as far as she could see, ships bobbing up and down in the rough waves. She saw one capsize, wanted to reach out and help if she could. She watched every sailor die, drowning in the furious waters. The Elder Scroll was insistent, ripping her view away from the sea and onto the mountains once more.

The vision faded as it homed in, focusing on a cave among the mountains. It went dark as it began the descent into the hole itself. Natalie blindly dropped the first scroll, reaching for the next. Serana handed it to her, worry crossing her face at Natalie’s fumbling. If this ritual took her sight, how would they ever defeat her father? Natalie was incredibly powerful, but even with her other senses enhanced to vampiric levels, losing her sight would completely destroy their chances of even coming close to winning the battle to come, let alone finding the bow itself.

Natalie felt the cool metal of the scroll, hand finding the tassel and wrenching it down, desperate to see the next part of the vision. Once more the scroll filled all of her vision, eclipsing her surroundings. The vision continued, down into the darkness. She saw a winding path through labyrinthine warrens, trying her best to memorise the exact path they would have to take. Despite the fact she knew these paths would be completely devoid of all light, she could see through them as clear as day thanks to the scroll’s influence. The scroll showed her every twist and turn they would have to take on their way to the bow. It led her to a ravine and down into it, meeting with rushing waters below, continuing on for longer than Natalie would have liked through the churning river.

Natalie blinked, the scroll feeling like it was burning her eyes. She knew she had to keep going, even if it took her sight from her. She concentrated once more, seeing the end of the path through the cavern. Before she could make out what it was, the scroll abruptly shut off, leaving Natalie blind of everything once more. Even the scroll’s light faded, leaving nothing but a faint afterglow in its wake.

Serana was prepared this time, already ready to hand the last Elder Scroll to Natalie. Her breathing had become more ragged, the scrolls taking more of a toll than on just her sight. She pushed through, finding the final tassel and pulling it open. Serana watched as Natalie was once more enveloped in the blaze of light, giving her the final part of the vision.

Her vision resumed, finding herself back in the cave. She could see the end of the path, a shrine dominating the cave wall. Within, an elf in resplendent white armour, unlike any Natalie had ever seen. He turned to look at her, boring through her with his gaze. Natalie was shocked to realise he could see her. He was completely different from any elf she knew of. He wasn’t a Wood Elf, far too tall and skin too light to be one of her kin. Not a High Elf, he had a slightly greater height, and not the same bone structure in his face. Dark Elf was completely out, his eyes white instead of red. He did not have the musculature of an Orc, and the green of their skin was completely absent.

Before Natalie could think any further, the elf spoke, “Come. Find me. Auriel’s Bow awaits.” He raised a hand, shining with a magic Natalie could not make out. The energy flew at her, colliding where eyes would be if she had been present in the cavern, forcing her out of the vision.

The final Elder Scroll clattered to the ground, Natalie falling onto her back. Her breathing was heavy, drenched in sweat from her ordeal. Rising into a sitting position, she looked around. Or she would have, if she could see. She turned her head where she knew Serana to be, staring wide eyed at the vampire princess.

Serana looked into Natalie’s vacant eyes. Her irises and pupils had returned, but nowhere near their former lustre. The forest green had dulled to grey, her pupils nearly white. The elf blinked, trying to bring back her absent sight. She sighed, “Well… at least I know where the bow is.”

“But… your eyes…”

Before Natalie could respond to soothe Serana’s worries, the tips of her ears twitched at a sound. The crunching of pine needles echoed in her pointed ears, drawing her attention behind her. She reacted without thinking, moving her head to the right. The arrow rushed past her face, striking her ear and filling the air with the scent of her blood. Relying solely on her instincts, Natalie flipped backwards, pulling an Elder Scroll with her and launching it in the direction of her attacker. She heard the satisfying rip of flesh and the thud of wood, evidence that she’d hit her target. Using her feet, she flicked the other two scrolls into her hands, brandishing them as makeshift maces.

Serana stood in shock for a moment. She’d heard the attack coming at the same time Natalie did, but didn’t react anywhere near as fast. Just as she’d gotten to her feet and readied an ice lance to launch, Natalie had already attacked with the skill and ferocity she’d come to expect from the elf. She’d thrown the Elder Scroll like a javelin, piercing straight through the heart of the vampire archer behind her, pinning his limp body to a tree. How she’d known exactly where the enemy was without her sight was nothing short of a miracle.

Natalie heard Serana off to her right, and every enemy that had come after them. She sniffed the air, her own blood mingling with the blood of the deceased. From that smell, she deduced they were vampires, likely even more of Harkon’s brood. “Come out, come out wherever you are. Maybe without my eyes this’ll be a fair fight.” Natalie bared her fangs to the forest in front of her, beckoning for them to attack.

The Dragonborn closed her eyes, focusing on her other senses. She heard her fellow vampires drop into battle stances, heard them push off the ground to charge at her. Could smell the magic flying towards her as it charged and burned the air. Natalie was running on pure instinct, relying solely on her body’s ability to react to any incoming danger.

The scrolls raised up, smashing apart ice lances and dissipating fire alike. Bolts of lightning reflected off them harmlessly, perfectly aimed to strike the roof and avoid damaging the delicate ecosystem of the trees. The first vampire to engage the master in melee combat was swiftly dealt with, one scroll swiping his feet out from under him, a knee rushing up to break his spine and send him sprawling away from her.

Serana watched on as six vampires hesitantly surrounded Natalie, eyeing the scrolls in her hands. She could see them salivating at the smell of their ally’s as well as that of Natalie’s blood. Their eyes though. That was where the interesting part of the situation was. They were afraid. Afraid of the elf that had just so handily dealt with two of them. All while blind. They had obviously heard of Natalie from some of Harkon’s brood, but didn’t believe the stories could be true.

They all charged as one, thinking to overwhelm Natalie with sheer numbers. She proved them wrong. She was like water, flowing around all of their blades with ease, the Elder Scrolls flashing out to break bones with every strike. Natalie used her feet to great advantage, swiping her enemies’ out from under them, as well as kicking with enormous force at every opportunity. Serana made to join in, but thought better of it, seeing the joy on Natalie’s face as she fought these lesser creatures. Natalie’s body moved as though she was dancing, every move with a purpose, each as mesmerising to Serana as the last.

Soon, she was surrounded by broken bodies at various states of groaning or unconsciousness. Quick strikes killed all but one of them. Natalie let the scrolls fall to the ground, grabbing the last vampire and flinging him into a tree with a single hand. He slid down from a bone crunching collision, barely able to draw breath through shattered ribs. Natalie marched over to him, grabbing his throat and dragging his broken body up the rough bark of the tree.

“Please… don’t… kill… me…” He managed to squeeze out through Natalie crushing his throat.

Natalie stared at him with her unseeing eyes, “You didn’t exactly do the same for me.” She tightened her grip, “I believe you went straight for trying to kill me. Why should I do anything different to you?” Natalie tapped her chin with a gauntleted finger, trying her best to look deep in thought without bursting out laughing. She raised it up, turning to the fearful vampire with a huge grin, “I’ve got it! I won’t kill you.” She leaned in, close enough to bite if she was so inclined, hissing into his face, joy disappearing from her face, “ _RUN_. Run back to Harkon. Tell him; I’m coming. Tell him I’m coming for him, and everyone even remotely associated with him. I’m going to burn everything to the ground.”

The instant she let go, the vampire scrambled to his feet and sprinted away, gone from their senses almost immediately.

As soon as he was gone, Natalie lost her composure and collapsed onto her knees, gasping for breath. She put her back to the tree, head between her legs, trying to calm her fatigued body. Serana collected the Elder Scrolls, carrying them in her arms. She came to sit next to Natalie, the elf leaning her head on her shoulder. “Never thought to use these as weapons.”

Natalie smiled to herself, finally able to catch her breath. “They’re indestructible, right? Great maces.”

Serana laughed, cleaning the blood off the scrolls. “Not much use for them now I suppose.” Serana glanced at Natalie, eyes flicking to Natalie’s own, sightless, staring forward. Serana didn’t want to mention them, but felt she had to, “Your eyes…”

Natalie looked up at Serana, holding her gaze with a slight smile curling her lips, “You have a drop of blood on your cheek.”

Serana raised her hand, surprised to find she was right. The offending liquid was soon gone, “How did you see that?”

“It’s only temporary.” Natalie grinned, “The looks on their faces, right?” She giggled, enjoying the look on Serana’s face. “It started coming back when they surrounded me. Not enough to actually see anything properly, but enough to know it wasn’t permanent.”

Serana looked on with astonishment, “Then you still fought without being able to see. I’ve got at least a few centuries of experience, and even I can’t do that.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow, “Is that jealousy I hear?” Serana scowled at her, earning only a laugh, “I’ve been fighting nearly constantly for six decades, Serana. Fighting people and huge monsters far stronger than myself. Fighting things weaker than me, easy. I can defeat most people blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back.”

“I’d like to see that.” Natalie raised her hand up, accidentally brushing her injured ear. A slight groan escaped her. Serana looked to see blood still trickling down the elf’s neck, staining the armour covering her shoulders. “Give me a look at that.” Natalie obliged, allowing Serana to move onto the other side of her and inspect the wound.

The arrow had sliced through a significant portion of Natalie’s ear near the centre. The tip of it wasn’t hanging off, but Serana assumed it would eventually fall off if she didn’t do something to fix it now. Serana could make out signs of corruption, some of the elf’s flesh had turned a sickly grey colour. Harkon’s lackey had poisoned his arrow, intent on taking Natalie down even if she had managed to nearly dodge the arrow itself. Gently as she could, she moved the torn flesh back into position, Natalie moaning quietly from the pain. She drew out the poison with a practiced spell, returning Natalie’s skin to its usual bronze, albeit currently slick with her blood. Next came the healing, a soft gold spell knitting the cartilage back together.

Natalie let out a sigh of relief as the pain disappeared, glad she wouldn’t lose an ear to a stupid mistake. Serana wiped off the remaining blood, hand lingering just slightly too long. She withdrew it when Natalie’s ear twitched slightly, quickly crossing them in her lap. Natalie felt the newly closed injury for herself, finding another scar to add to her collection. She sighed, tired of her ever-changing canvas of scars and wounds that covered her body.

Natalie pulled one of the Elder Scrolls into her hands, turning the metal cover over and over. Her vision had returned enough to make out the scroll itself, but not much past it. The patterns seemed even more alien than before, despite her newfound experience actually reading them, instead of the vague vision she’d seen decades before on the Throat of the World.

“I know where the bow is. More accurately, I know who has it.”

Natalie’s sudden admission made Serana jump slightly, “Who has it then?”

“An elf.”

Her simple answer confused Serana, “An elf? Any particular elf? You’re going to have to be more specific Natalie. There's a lot of elves in Skyrim. I'm even sitting next to one.”

Natalie laughed, “That’s the best description I can come up with. He’s unlike any other elf I've ever seen. He's not a Wood Elf like me, he’s not a High Elf or a Dark Elf or even an Orc. I’d even go so far as to say he’s unique.”

“Okay. So, we’ve got a unique elf. Pray tell, where is this elf that is unlike any other elf?”

The answer popped into Natalie’s mind from seemingly nowhere, instantly knowing the name, “Darkfall Cave. It’s in the western Skyrim mountains. I know exactly where. All we have to do is go there.”

Serana studied Natalie’s still grey eyes, “Are you sure you want to travel? With your eyes it’ll be slow going.”

The elf chuckled, “I’ll be fine. Might need help to get out of the cave, but all we’ve got to do is call for Shadowmere and turn her north-west.” She waved her gauntlet in front of her face, able to make out a vague shape but little else beyond it, “If my sight improves at this rate, I should be completely restored by the time we get near."

Serana stood to her feet, collecting the Elder Scrolls and stowing them beneath her cloak once more. She helped Natalie to her feet, interlacing their fingers together and leading her along the grove’s path. Natalie closed her eyes, trusting Serana to not lead her astray. She walked on top of the pine needles once more, following the slight tug of Serana’s hand wherever it led.

Soon, the soft floor gave way to the cavern’s rocky floor, forcing Natalie to open her eyes for the extremely limited help they may give. It was slow going, each step carefully placed. Her eyes were barely any help, the darkness of the cavern ensured any limited sight they may have gave her was almost useless. She had to rely solely on her other senses, and the warm hand interlocked with her own.

Finally, soft moonlight from outside illuminated their path, leading them outside properly. Natalie breathed in deep, enjoying the smell of the fresh air once more. Her sight had improved slightly, able to make out the forest in the distance. Only the vague mass of green was visible even with vampiric enhancements, but it was still an improvement. Natalie was glad not to proven a liar about her sight.

She whistled as loud as she could, “SHADOWMERE!” The midnight black horse came galloping over, halting in a cloud of dust in front of them. The horse hesitantly sniffed at Natalie’s face, obviously unsure of her master’s new eye colour. Natalie fondly rubbed down her long nose, holding the mare’s face steady and holding the mare’s gaze, “I’m alright girl. Don’t worry, only temporary.” The disgruntled snort from Shadowmere indicated her annoyance at Natalie’s predicament. “Oh, don’t be like that. I don’t get annoyed at your eye colour.” She bumped Natalie to the side. Serana could swear the horse rolled her eyes at the elf.

Natalie hoisted herself into the saddle, holding out her hand to Serana. She took it, hoisting herself into the saddle in front of Natalie, “Hey!”

Serana twisted in the saddle to fix Natalie with a pointed stare, “You’re blind, and you want to lead?”

“Yes, but…” Natalie raised her hand to argue, but quickly lowered it when she thought about it, “Okay, you may have a point.” Natalie wrapped her arms securely around Serana’s waist, pressing herself against the vampire’s back and resting her chin on her shoulder, “I’ll just have to hold on tight. Just in case you’re a bad rider.”

Serana rolled her eyes before setting off at a rapid pace, just under the speed of galloping. She found the main road and turned north-west at Natalie’s direction, setting them on the path to Auriel’s Bow. And, finally, on the final step to defeating her father.

 

* * *

 

 

**Morndas, 9:20am, 10 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Western Skyrim Mountains**

 

They came to the base of the mountains, a thin pass that Natalie knew would lead them towards the cave extended in front of them. She patted Shadowmere on the side, the mare turning and galloping off into the distance.

On the first morning of their travels, the morning sun had felt like someone was stabbing Natalie in the eyes with daggers, forcing her to rip up a small part of her undershirt and wear it as a blindfold. The feeling of utter helplessness was foreign to Natalie, clinging onto Serana as they rode. Serana herself didn’t seem to mind her grip, almost seeming to settle back into Natalie’s body.

The second day was more bearable, the pain significantly lessened as Natalie’s eyesight almost completely returned. She still wore the blindfold, not wanting to tempt fate and injure her eyes any further than from reading the Elder Scrolls.

By the third morning, they had arrived at their destination, ready to find the cave they needed.

“You going to take that off?”

Natalie faced in the direction of Serana’s voice. “Oh, yeah. One sec.” She felt behind her head for the knot, untying it and letting the cloth fall. She kept her eyes closed in anticipation, raising her head to look up at Serana. Natalie’s eyes slowly opened, locking her gaze towards the vampire. Serana stared in relief at the forest green of Natalie’s eyes, completely restored to their natural state. Natalie smiled, able to once more see the woman in front of her clearly. “Told you it would wear off.”

“You’re just lucky you were right. I'm not carrying you to the bow.”

“Aw, and here I was angling for exactly that.” Natalie winked at Serana, starting onto the mountain pass.

The two women moved slowly through the mountains, Natalie guiding them with precision. While Natalie would have preferred to ride Shadowmere the whole way, the ground was strewn with rocks and pitfalls, ensuring the mare would be injured no matter how careful they were. She had to settle for the walking, slowing their pace. They made their way further into the area, climbing ever higher, even scrambling up almost vertical slopes.

Natalie led Serana onto a thin path, a cave visible at the distant end. She pointed forward, indicating they would have to edge along the perilous ledge to get there. On one side, a steep drop to the bottom of a valley between the mountains led to a guaranteed death. The other, a vertical wall of stone, unbroken all the way to near the top of the mountain itself.

Serana could see the cave itself had a similar effect to the Ancestor Glade, its entrance completely devoid of all light, despite the sun shining down onto the mountains. The sky was remarkably clear for Skyrim, at least providing ample light to make their way to the cave. “Certainly earns its name.” Natalie turned back with a raised eyebrow, “Well, you know,” She pointed at the cave, “Dark,” then off the edge, “Fall,” and finally back to the entrance, “Cave.”

Natalie let out a snort, “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“Hey, you laughed, can’t deny it.”

Natalie turned back to face forwards along the path. Her foot landed on a loose stone, slipping out from under her. She began falling, eyes going wide as she prepared any sort of spell that might save her. Serana quickly stuck out her hand, grabbing Natalie’s gauntlet and wrenching her back onto her feet. She was pulled back into Serana’s arms, ending up enveloped by them. They stayed there for a minute, both of their hearts nearly beating out of their chests.

Natalie swallowed, moving back and looking up into Serana’s eyes, “Thanks.”

The slightly taller woman only nodded, “Please be more careful.”

They moved onwards to the cave with no incidents. The entrance was foreboding, light stopping a short distance into the cave system. Natalie was unsure if she could explain the path they needed to take through the warren of tunnels. She could see it clearly in her mind, but every time she tried to think of a way to explain it or even give simple directions, the words eluded her. She opted for the only sure-fire way of getting them both through without losing one another, taking Serana’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “Here goes nothing.”

With a slight tug of her hand, Natalie began walking on the path through the cavern, leading Serana into the almost complete darkness.

After crossing the threshold, Serana looked back, still able to see the outside as clear as day. Some sort of enchantment had to be on the entrance to prevent anyone from the outside from discerning its secrets. However, she could sense nothing. No magic had been cast here, at least nothing that she was familiar with, and after living for millennia, there was very little she didn’t at least have a pasable knowledge of. Nothing should have been preventing anyone from seeing inside the cave. And if the tunnels were as twisting and confusing as Natalie claimed, what would be the point of any sort of enchantment anyway? Hopefully the elf Natalie had seen would have some answers, and if not, maybe she could figure it out for herself.

They descended down into the depths of the mountain, any daylight that had gotten past the entrance completely disappearing. Natalie pulled Serana along a seemingly random path, choosing their direction with no hesitation. Neither woman could see clearly, the only source of light the dim red glow of Natalie’s gauntlet. Whenever they’d attempted to cast a spell to light their way, it had almost instantaneously sputtered out. Natalie had tried to put as much power as she could into the magic, only to have nothing to show for it. They’d settled for her impeccable knowledge of the path they should take, completely relying on the vision the Elder Scroll had shown her of the path.

Serana almost walked into Natalie when the elf abruptly stopped. She looked at their rocky surroundings. The path split into three in front of them, Natalie hesitating at which to take. Serana could see worry etched into Natalie’s face, small beads of sweat running down her forehead.

“Natalie.” The Dragonborn turned to face her, head downcast “Which way is it?”

She whispered in response, “What if I’m wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if I interpreted the vision wrong? Or if the scrolls lied to me? Or if that elf is just leading us to our deaths? Maybe I’m just getting us lost in the wrong cave and our bodies will never even be found.”

Serana gently placed her hand on Natalie’s face, raising it to meet her eyes, “One, you’ve yet to lead us the wrong way. Two, the Elder Scrolls don’t lie. You heard what Dexion said. If they didn’t want to be found, the scrolls wouldn’t have let us find one of them, let alone three.” Natalie’s gauntlet rose to hold Serana’s hand to her face, “I trust you, Natalie. You’ve got this.”

Serana’s hand came back to her side, her other still interlocked with Natalie’s free hand. Natalie shook her head out, confidence renewed by Serana’s words. She pulled Serana towards the right path but froze at a sound. She looked down one of the other two paths then the remaining one. Something was rushing towards them from both. Something with far more than two legs.

Natalie tried to cast a stream of fire, only a bare few small flares emitting from her gauntlet. They were enough for both women’s vampiric sight to catch sight of the creatures coming for them.

Giant spiders came from both tunnels, filling every available surface, including the roof, charging at the pair. Natalie’s reaction was instant, “Run.” She painfully pulled on Serana’s arm, dragging her towards the right path. The elf let go of Serana’s hand, both keeping pace with each other. “Don’t let me out of your sight at any cost. It’s a maze down here.”

The two women accelerated to vampiric speeds, thundering through the tunnels and cracking the stone beneath them with nearly every footfall. Every time they cast a look over their shoulders, they were confronted by even more of the spiders. Each tunnel they passed added to the horde chasing after them. Natalie stayed completely focused on the path, ensuring they never strayed from her vision. Serana for her part watched Natalie’s movements, keeping pace with every twist and turn the elf took. If they lost each other down here, they likely would never be able to find one another. Serana didn’t think she would be able to make it back outside without Natalie’s help, the route far too confusing to memorise and follow back through in the reverse direction. She hoped when the time came, Natalie herself would be able to reverse it.

“Three more turns.” Natalie’s word spurred Serana to continue their sprint away. The third turn led them into a hallway, the roof of the cavern above them lost in the darkness. At the end of it, almost a kilometre away, Serana could make out a rickety wooden bridge, crossing a huge ravine. She could hear rushing water at the bottom of it, part of an underground river system she knew Skyrim possessed. She figured out Natalie’s plan at that moment. They’d cross and cut the ropes, preventing the spiders from crossing the ravine and giving them time to escape, maybe even send a few of them plummeting into the waters below.

Natalie could feel her magicka coming back to her. Whatever had stopped her from using magic before was diminishing, her power coming rushing back in a tidal wave. She began building it up inside, even as they ran towards the bridge. Serana saw small sparks of lightning and flames start to flicker around Natalie’s runes. As they got closer, they turned into an almost constant aura, burning through the air. Soon, she was completely wreathed in lightning and flame, lighting the cavern walls around them and casting deep shadows onto the rampaging spiders.

“You’re going to hate me.”

“What?”

“When we get to the bridge, stop halfway across.”

“Are you insane?!” Serana almost tripped from Natalie’s plan, with what she thought would happen utterly different.

“Probably. But, it’s the only way.” Natalie spared a glance at her partner, “You trust me, right?” Serana swallowed, only offering a simple nod in response. “Then you’ll have to stop.”

Serana had no choice but to follow Natalie’s instruction and stop.

They finally got to the bridge, well ahead of the mass of giant spiders. As promised, both vampires stopped in the centre, Natalie casting her sight over both sides of the ravine. As she suspected, there were more spiders on the other side of the bridge, ready to charge after them. These new enemies caught sight of them, beginning their own sprint to get to them.

They were surrounded. Natalie sincerely hoped her plan would work. She built up all the power she could muster, enveloping both her and Serana in the magic aura. With a yell, she extended both arms parallel with the bridge. The most powerful display of magic that Serana had yet seen Natalie perform emitted from her outstretched hands. Torrents of flame enclosed by lightning bridged the gap, with Natalie at their centre. Serana could hear the spider’s shrieks as they were consumed by the destructive force Natalie was putting out. The whole cavern looked as though it was midday, even the river below glowing with Natalie’s power. She managed to drive back both groups of enemies, but kept up her demonstration, ensuring none would follow them. The stone surrounding both sides of the bridge began to glow with the heat, some of it even starting to melt and drip into the raging rapids below.

The bridge lit on fire, the heat too much for the old frayed rope and rotting timber to handle. Serana made to stop Natalie, “Don’t. Like I said… you’re going to hate me.”

The ropes began to snap, Natalie still putting forth flames and lightning. The instant the last rope snapped, the magic was gone, Natalie throwing her arms around Serana. They plunged into the ravine, the speed of their free fall whistling in Natalie’s ears. Natalie rolled in the air, forcing herself under Serana and taking the brunt of the impact with the water. She felt several of her ribs crack as she landed, immediately forcing the breath from her lungs and filling her mouth with water as their speed took her beneath the surface.

Serana came away from Natalie’s clutches as they resurfaced, gasping for air and being swept along by the river’s rapids. Every attempt they made to get closer to one another was in vain, the river’s current too strong even for their vampiric enhanced muscles. Any light that may have been present was useless, each vampire barely able to see the other as they were swept blindly along through the cave by the dangerous waters.

Sheogorath’s gauntlet felt like it was weighing her down. The Daedric artefact was attempting to pull her under the rapids at every moment, she was sure of it. Natalie struggled to keep her head above water, water soon beginning to fill her lungs. All of her equipment weighed her down even further, each of her three daggers and twin swords doing nothing to help her breathe properly. The rivers twists and turns slammed her into the wall, further injuring her already fractured ribs and making it even harder to breathe. Serana could only watch on as she made her own attempts to get closer to Natalie and prevent her from going under.

Natalie’s powerful magical onslaught had left her drained, her physical movements to stop herself from drowning leaving her even more fatigued. Soon, her efforts were for naught, her head falling below the churning waters, filling her lungs.

Serana saw the elf go under. Tried with all her might to get to her, stop her from drowning. But there was nothing she could do, the river’s strength far beyond her own.

Natalie saw the river’s surface above her, violently churning. Without being above the water, it was almost peaceful. No struggles, only her consciousness slipping away from her as she was deprived of air. She could see Serana desperately trying to make her way over, pull her back to the surface. Natalie reached out with what little strength she had left, a token display, nothing more.

When Natalie turned her head, she saw what looked like a white line in the distance. It was only when she came closer did she realise what it was. A waterfall. THE waterfall. The one they had to go over to get to the final leg of their journey to the mysterious elf in her vision. Summoning up the vestiges of her strength, she turned towards it, reaching out with a hand.

Serana managed to stay above the water the whole time. She had made no progress in getting closer to Natalie, almost giving up when she saw the river ending and the cave walls surrounding them disappear. The waterfall approached so rapidly she barely had time to think. She had no idea how far ahead or behind Natalie was, only hoping that they would go over the edge around the same time. She had to save the elf. She would not let the only person she cared about die here.

Both women flew over the edge of the waterfall at almost the same time. Natalie was barely conscious, her limbs rising up as her strength to move them failed. She could make no effort to slow her descent, plummeting towards the lake below.

Serana caught sight of Natalie, putting her plan into motion. She summoned up her magicka, small gouts of fire coming from her hands as she propelled herself towards Natalie’s freefalling body. She managed to repeat Natalie’s own feat, wrapping her arms around the elf and turning so her own back would take the force of their fall.

The impact did the same thing to Serana it had done to Natalie. Several of her ribs fractured, air rushing from her lungs. Serana managed to hold on, forcing them to the surface of the lake. It was remarkably calm, in stark contrast to the river rapids they had just been subjected to. She paddled over to the shore, keeping Natalie aloft with one arm under her chest.

Turning Natalie onto her side and slapping her back had the desired effect. Almost immediately, she began coughing, vomiting up all of the water filling her lungs. She drew a deep rasping breath as full consciousness returned to her. Natalie rolled onto her back, breathing rapidly to fully wake herself back up from nearly drowning. Both women groaned at their broken bones, too tired to heal them.

Serana lay next to the elf, trying to fill her own lungs with air as fast as she could. They both took deep breaths for several minutes, finally able to sit up and take in their surroundings. Natalie pulled small vials of magicka potion from her belt, amazingly still sealed even after the beating Natalie herself had taken from the river. They both drained them, giving them just enough energy to heal their ribs and catch their breath. Serana scowled at Natalie, bringing a small grin to the elf’s face, “I hate you.”

“Told you, didn’t I?”

Serana bumped her shoulder against Natalie’s, her smile infectious. “So, where to now, oh great Elder Scroll reader?”

Natalie simply raised her gauntlet, pointing further down into the cavern, the only source of light in the entire place. Serana gasped at the sight. Somehow, she’d missed the huge polished stone shrine that dominated the far wall beyond the lake. It swept all the way to the ceiling, resplendent in its detail, obviously dedicated to some god or another, Serana just wasn’t sure which. If Natalie was right, and there was an elf within who knew where Auriel’s Bow was, his god may demand the two vampires be slain. Serana just hoped they wouldn’t have to kill him if they could avoid it.

They climbed to their feet, slowly making their way towards the shrine. Serana kept casting sidelong glances at Natalie, a look of annoyance etched into her face, “What?”

“Did you know how about the spiders?”

“What do you mean?”

Serana became more insistent, “Did you know we would have to run away from literally thousands of those hairy eight-legged beasts?”

Natalie sighed, “Nope. Didn’t know about the magicka drain either. If I had, I would’ve told you. I knew about the river. I was hoping we’d be able to climb down into it, not fall.” She rubbed at the side of her chest, “Broken ribs were not part of the vision.”

Serana was only slightly satisfied with her answer, “Good. Would’ve had to punch you otherwise. Please tell me this elf will just give us the bow.”

“No idea. He wasn’t exactly chatty in the vision. And, when has anything ever been that easy for us?”

Serana laughed, unable to deny Natalie’s assertions. Natalie joined in, their laughter echoing through the cavern and reaching the shrine itself.

A man came into view at the entrance to the shrine. The moment they caught sight of him, both women fell silent, his very presence rendering them speechless. Just as Natalie had said, he matched no elven species that was currently alive. His skin tone was far removed from any one of them, and his height outstretched even that of the High Elves. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, focusing in on the two vampires walking towards him. His armour shined white through the darkness, even the glow from the shrine eclipsed by it.

“Welcome Natalie, Last Dragonborn and Slayer of Alduin. And welcome Serana, Daughter of Harkon and Princess of Clan Volkihar. I welcome you.” He bowed deeply, his tone full of respect but also slight foreboding, “I have been expecting you. Follow me, if you would.”

Natalie and Serana exchanged a glance, but did as he bid, quickly following after the strange elf. On the inside, the shrine was remarkably small, only a few rooms with sparse furniture. They followed him through several rooms before coming to a small room with bare walls, the elf standing on the far side.

“I am Knight-Paladin Gelebor. Welcome to the Great Chantry of Auri-El.”

Natalie stared at Gelebor, unsure what to make of his words, “This is a shrine to Auriel?”

He nodded, “Auriel, Auri-El, Alkosh, Akatosh… so many different names for the sovereign of the Snow Elves.”

The pieces fell into place for both women. Why he looked so unlike any elf they had ever known. Natalie spoke of their surprise, “Wait… you’re a Snow Elf? You’re a Falmer? A real Falmer?!”

Gelebor grimaced slightly, “I prefer Snow Elf. The name “Falmer” usually holds a negative meaning to most travellers. Those twisted creatures you call Falmer, I call the Betrayed.”

“I… I have so many questions…” Natalie stammered out, her mind racing with so many thoughts at once.

“And I would answer them if we had time, but alas, time is of the essence I’m afraid.”

Serana stepped forward, “So you know why we’re here. You spoke to Natalie through her vision.”

“I do and I did. You’re here for Auriel’s Bow. Why else would you be here? Not a single man or woman has come here seeking anything else in thousands of years. I can help you retrieve it, but I’m afraid I must ask for your assistance with a matter of a personal nature. The same I ask of everyone seeking the Bow.”

Natalie spoke up, staring at the man who was almost her kin but not quite, “And what would this matter be?”

“I need you to kill someone for me.”

“Of course you do, what else does everyone ask of me?” Natalie scoffed at his words.

“I need you to kill Arch-Curate Vyrthur… my brother.”

Natalie gaped at the Snow Elf, “You want us to kill your brother… why?”

“I believe you misunderstand Dragonborn. The kinship between us has long since passed. I don’t understand what he’s become, but he is no longer the brother I once knew.” Gelebor paused, the memory obviously quite painful, “It was the Betrayed… they did something to him, I just don’t know why Auri-El would allow this to happen.”

“What did the Fal… Betrayed do exactly?”

“They swept into the Chantry without warning and began killing everyone without pause.”

“And you didn’t think to even try to fight back?”

“The Chantry was a place of peaceful worship. I led a small group of paladins, but we were no match for the Betrayed’s sheer numbers. They slaughtered all but myself and stormed the Inner Sanctum where I believe they corrupted Vyrthur.”

Natalie narrowed her eyes at Gelebor, her distrust of his words growing, “Wait… you don’t even know if he’s alive?”

He could see Natalie’s reaction in her eyes, attempting to explain his story, “He is alive. I’ve seen him. But something’s wrong. He never looks as though he’s in pain or under duress. He just… stands there and watches, as though waiting.”

“Have you ever tried getting to your brother? Seeing what the Betrayed did to him?”

Gelebor shook his head, “Leaving the wayshrines unguarded would be violating my sacred duty as a Knight-Paladin of Auri-El. And an assault on the Betrayed guarding the Inner Sanctum would only end with my death.”

“And what makes you think we will get through?”

“You alone are far more powerful than myself, Dragonborn. Even here, I know of your defeat of Alduin. And combined with Serana’s strength, you are sure to prevail and get through to my brother.”

Natalie nodded. Despite this Snow Elf’s obvious age and experience, she only sensed the tiniest spark of magical aptitude from him. That alone stuck him at a huge disadvantage against large numbers of Falmer. “This is a wayshrine then? Not the Chantry proper?”

“Correct, let me show you.” A simple wave of his hand activated a mechanism, the back walls of the room moving out of the way to reveal a small pavilion. Mirrors were arrayed on its sides, somehow reflecting nothing. A small basin stood in the centre, filled with water that radiated some sort of magical power. “This structure is known as a wayshrine. They were used for meditation and for transport when the Chantry was a place of enlightenment. Prelates of theses shrines were charged with teaching the mantras of Auri-El to our Initiates.”

Serana entered the wayshrine studying the centre basin, “What’s this basin signify?”

“Once the Initiate completed their mantras, they would dip a ceremonial ewer in the basin at the wayshrine’s centre and proceed to the next wayshrine.”

Serana continued to needle Gelebor with questions, “So these Initiates had to lug around a heavy pitcher of water. Marvellous. How long would they have to do that?”

Gelebor’s face shifted with annoyance, but continued to answer Serana, “Well, once the Initiate’s enlightenment was complete, they’d bring the ewer to the Chantry’s Inner Sanctum. Pouring the contents of the ewer into the sacred basin of the Sanctum would allow him or her to enter for an audience with the Arch-Curate himself.”

Serana rolled her eyes, “All that just to end up dumping it out? Makes no sense to me.”

Gelebor’s annoyance entered his voice, “It’s symbolic. I don’t expect you to understand.”

Serana leant against the basin, trying to understand Gelebor’s reasoning, “So, let’s get this straight. We need to do all that nonsense to get into the temple, only so we can murder your brother and claim Auriel’s Bow?”

The Snow Elf nodded, restraining himself, “I know how it all sounds, but if there was another way, I’d have done it long ago. The only way to get to my brother is by following in the Initiates’ footsteps and travelling from wayshrine to wayshrine just as they did. The first lay at the end of Darkfall Passage, a cavern that represents the absence of enlightenment.”

“We just nearly died to go through some god’s stupid trials-”

Natalie stepped in front of Serana, placing a hand on the centre of her chest and stopping her from doing something she’d regret. She spoke without looking away from Serana’s face, “How many more wayshrines are there?”

“There are five in total, spread far across the Chantry.”

“Five?” Natalie was incredulous. “I thought these caves were massive before…”

“Caves?” Gelebor was confused for a moment before realising their mistake, “Oh, no. The Chantry encompasses far more than a few caves, as you’ll soon discover. But before I send you on your way, you’ll need the Initiate’s Ewer.” Gelebor strode to one side of the room, returning with a stone vessel, handing it to Natalie. It was surprisingly light for its size, magic obviously used in its construction.

“I need to fill this at each wayshrine?”

“Once you’ve located a wayshrine, there will be a spectral Prelate tending to it. They will allow you to draw the waters from the shrine’s basin as if you’ve been enlightened.”

“We’ll be off then.”

Gelebor simply nodded, taking the ewer and filling it with some of the water in the basin before handing it back to Natalie. “Auri-El go with you.” He waved his hand, the centre mirror transforming into a portal. Only a shining white light was visible, the portal’s destination hidden to their sight.

Natalie swallowed, letting Serana move through the portal first, taking one last glance at Gelebor, before following the other vampire through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	15. Claiming the Bow

**Morndas, 11:50am, 10 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Darkfall Cave**

 

Natalie hesitated for a moment, shifting the ewer into her right hand. She breathed out several times in front of the portal, preparing for what she knew would come the second she stepped through. Stealing herself, she moved into the blinding light.

Serana breathed out a sigh of relief, “Well… that wasn’t as unpleasant as I thought it would be. Kind of soothing actually. I actually feel a little warmer, now.”

Immediately, the pain started. Natalie screamed, collapsing to one knee as her left arm fell uselessly to her side. She almost dropped the ewer, but somehow managed to hold onto it and place it on the ground. Natalie could feel her blood start to well up beneath the metal plates of her gauntlet, along with small drops of it from all under her armour. The metal digits of her hand scraped the ground, moving them ever so slightly and sending a fresh wave of agony shooting up her arm.

Serana spun around to find Natalie collapsed on the ground, clutching at her arm. The portal behind her closed, plunging them back into darkness. Serana conjured a small mage-light, kneeling next to Natalie, “Natalie? What’s wrong?”

Natalie’s breathing came out ragged and pained, barely able to think through the torture, “Green…crystal. Pocket at my… waist.”

Serana responded immediately, rooting through the small pocket and retrieving the crystal. It took her a moment to realise what it was. Natalie’s groaning snapped her memory into place. She spun the crystal on the ground, green lightning flaring up around it before forming into a glowing enchantment circle.

With an almighty effort and a silent scream, Natalie moved her gauntlet into the centre of it, trying to control her breathing. Blood began to pool around her gauntlet as it seeped through the invisible gaps in the metal. Natalie moved her other hand over the Daedric artefact, casting the enchantment over her whole arm. More green lightning shot from her fingertips, enveloping her entire arm and sinking into the gauntlet itself. The enchantment finished with a bright flare of green light, Natalie falling onto her back the moment it was done.

Natalie’s chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, arm across her eyes while she tried to calm down. Serana helped her to sit up against the cavern wall, sitting silent for several minutes while the pain subsided.

“Not a big fan of portals?”

Natalie gave a short bark of laughter, “One way to put it.” She flexed her fingers back and forth, some of the joints cracking from the fresh enchantment.

Serana watched on, her curiosity growing, “Why do portals affect it so much?”

Natalie smiled, excited at talking about the magic she was one of the few knowledgeable enough to actually explain, “To put it bluntly, they don’t.” Serana’s face creased with confusion, “Okay, they do and they don’t. It isn’t the portal itself. It’s where it takes me that causes the issues. Like the portal into the Soul Cairn, no problem.” She waved her hand at the blank mirror they had just walked through, “This one, complete destabilisation.”

“Right, so if you go somewhere not in Nirn, you’re fine. But anywhere on Nirn, problem.”

“Exactly. I had it explained to me like this. Nirn has its own timestream. If I travel to somewhere not on Nirn, I’m entering a separate timestream, and because this is time magic, there’s no problem. But, if I go from point A in Nirn to point B in Nirn, the magic fails. Mostly because I’m jumping around through the same timestream and the time magic is only meant to function at one point in space. For a moment, its functioning in two, so it fails.”

“Lucky portals aren’t all that common.”

Natalie sighed, “You’d be surprised.”

Serana climbed to her feet, helping Natalie up before retrieving the ewer, “Well, if there’s going to be another portal, maybe it’s best if I hold onto this.” She bent down, picking up the green crystal and pocketing it, “And this too, just in case.”

Natalie nodded, “Yeah.” She looked at the ground, a sorrowful look crossing her face, “…sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

She held up her gauntlet, indicating it and her whole arm, “For this. It’s just a burden really. If there’s five more portals, then that’s five more times we’re slowed down by me. Five more times I've got to redo it. Should’ve just cut it off.”

Serana turned on Natalie, fixing her with a pointed stare, “I’m pretty sure that hunk of metal has saved yours and my life many times over by now.”

“Well yes but-”

“Can you catch swords with your other hand?”

“No, but-”

“Can you deflect magic with your other hand?”

“Kind of but-”

“Can you strengthen magic simply by casting with your other hand?”

“No, but-”

“Then should you have cut it off?”

Serana’s constant needling and interruptions had worn down Natalie’s protests. She lowered the gauntlet, dropping her head to stare at the ground, “No...” She sighed, lifting her gaze back up to Serana’s, “You can be very persuasive.”

“All part of my charm, wouldn’t you say?” Serana grinned and winked at the elf, brightening both of their spirits.

“And very stubborn.”

Serana lightly punched Natalie in the shoulder, grin growing even wider, “Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment.”

They started off through the cave, followed along by the light Serana had conjured. Both women were thankful for their magic now working. Natalie had not seen any of this section of the cave in her vision, so the path they should take was a complete unknown. Luckily for them, whenever the path split, all but one ended a short way down in a dead end, leaving only one path that could even possibly be the correct one.

The cave continued its winding path under the earth. Neither Natalie nor Serana knew exactly where they were, no idea where the portal had spat them out. It was possible that they weren’t even in Skyrim anymore. They could be under Natalie’s native Valenwood for all they knew. Natalie hoped this wasn’t the case, as unless a portal could lead them back, it would take months to get back to Skyrim, and in that time, Harkon could wreak havoc across the entire province with no one powerful enough to stop him.

Natalie shook the thought from her head. If she kept thinking like that, she’d start entertaining even more ridiculous scenarios and end up getting lost down here. Luckily for her, Serana was focused on the task at hand, leading the way through the tunnel. The magicka drain had not returned, the mage-light staying strong.

Serana almost snuffed out the light as they rounded a bend into the next section of the cavern. Natalie’s bow was almost instantly in her grip, several arrows following soon after. The cave had a small Falmer settlement, the creatures Gelebor had called the Betrayed skittering about in the darkness. The only way further on their path lie directly through the camp. Natalie could see no way to sneak around them and be on their way. The familiar sound of insect wings and legs echoed off the stone, Chaurus among the fallen elves.

Natalie turned to Serana, giving her a slight nod. She stood tall, pulling the string back on her bow and turning it on an angle. Three arrows aimed at their targets, ready to fire at a moment’s notice. Serana gave her the signal and she released.

All three found their targets, striking three separate Falmer with killing blows. The rest of the Betrayed turned at the sound, hissing in the two vampire’s direction. They all charged at once, intent on killing the invaders. Natalie shouldered her bow, twin silver swords singing as they sliced through the air out of their scabbards. Natalie dropped into her hip, propelling herself off the ground, meeting the Falmer in the middle. The stone cracked under the force she’d pushed off with, echoing in the cavern.

Natalie took all of them head on, leaving Serana at the back to fire spell after spell into the crowd. Natalie’s blades perfectly parried every attack, attacking with ten times the ferocity she had received. Even the flying Chaurus stood no chance, taken down by Serana before they could even get close to Natalie. Falmer further back in the camp scrambled to find bows or projectiles to fight off the invaders with. Natalie simply pushed further, decimating their forces by the second.

Their blood splashed onto Natalie with every swing of her sword, further intensifying her efforts to slay them all. A smile formed on her face as she sprinted at the final Falmer, the fear in his actions the reaction she was so used to seeing. Then he did something Natalie had never seen. The Falmer dropped his sword and shield, raising his hands in surrender.

Natalie skidded to a stop, eyeing the Falmer with curiosity. His sightless pink eyes blinked rapidly, avoiding Natalie’s gaze. She raised one of her swords, the Falmer responding in kind by falling to his knees and covering his head. Serana strode up next to her holding the ewer.

“I’ve never seen a Falmer do this.” She brought the sword closer, the Falmer doing his best to get as far away from it without running.

Serana paced around the fallen elf, seeming to not even notice her presence. “I’ve only seen them before in Blackreach, but this seems very odd.”

Natalie took a step closer, the Falmer shaking even more. The blade seemed to repel him, something about it frightened him enough to surrender, something Natalie didn’t think they were capable of doing. She’d seen them run from her before, but that was always to get away from their own death. These blades had been wielded against them before. Natalie had used them in previous trips into Dwemer ruins, slaughtering dozens of Falmer with them. Nothing like this reaction had happened then. Was this specific Falmer different? Or was it all the Falmer in this cave?

“As interesting as it would be to find out why this is happening, we don’t really have time, do we?”

Serana’s voice cut through and snapped Natalie out of her concentration, “I suppose not.” Natalie abruptly brought one blade down, decapitating the Falmer. She wiped the blood clean from both blades on the Falmer’s armour, sheathing them before beginning the path through the camp. “If there’s more of them, maybe we can get through without a fight if I just hold these up.” She patted the pommels of the blades strapped to her hips.

“Where's the fun in that?”

Natalie laughed, scanning their surroundings. The cavern roof was far above them, lost in the darkness. The glow of Serana’s mage-light unable to reach further than about halfway up. The path they needed to follow led through the Falmer camp and into a passage beyond. A waterfall fell in one corner of the room, a bridge of stone penetrating the flow of water and ending on the other side of the room above their heads.

As Natalie suspected, the passage they followed ended up as the bridge through the waterfall. The thick sheet of water would drench them if they sprinted straight through it, so the Dragonborn had an idea.

Natalie scooped Serana into her arms, one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. Serana let out a small yelp at the sudden lack of contact with the ground, “What’re you-”

Natalie only grinned, “Hold on tight.” With no time to protest the sudden move, Serana slapped one hand over the top of the ewer, the other holding around Natalie’s shoulders.

“ _TIID KLO UL!_ ” Time slowed down at Natalie’s shout, the water in front of them slowing to a stop. Serana was enveloped in the shout, allowing her to see as Natalie did, marvelling at the shout’s effects on their surroundings. The waterfall was completely solid, its flow completely hindered by Natalie’s shout.

“ _FUS RO DAH!_ ” The shout thundered forward, shattering the solid sheet of water and sending it scattering through the air, leaving a convenient hole in the waterfall for them to pass through.

Natalie breathed in for one final effort, feeling the effects of her first shout beginning to wear off. She put all her weight on her back foot, preparing to push them through as quickly as she could. “ _WULD NAH KEST!_ ” Natalie’s shout shot them rocketing through the hole she’d created, ending up on the far side of the bridge, not a single drop of water coating them.

Serana had somehow managed to keep the ewer from spilling any of the water, now able to let her hand stop covering its open top and instead grip the handle once more. Time began its normal flow, the sudden explosion of water showering much of the bridge, stopping just short of the two women’s position. The waterfall continued on as if nothing had happened, water plummeting to the ground below once more.

Natalie’s breathing came heavy, the exertion of three shouts in a row fatiguing her slightly. Serana could see small drops of sweat rolling down the side of her face. The elf let her down, putting her hands on her hips and drawing deep breaths into her lungs. After a moment she was restored, grinning at the vampire princess.

“While it was impressive, was all that really necessary?”

Natalie only grinned wider, “Oh I think so. Anything to surprise you. And if this cave leads into a blizzard, I don’t want to have to have my armour freezing onto me because I’m soaked.” Natalie started off into the darkness of the passage. Serana shook her head with a small chuckle before following on with the mage-light and ewer.

The passage winded through the stone, giving no clear indication of what direction they were actually travelling. They ran into no more Falmer or any other threats, the rock seemingly devoid of any other life aside from the two vampires. After several more minutes of walking, they rounded one last bend to their goal.

The corner took them into a cavern almost identical to Gelebor’s. A shrine to Auri-El dominated the far wall, somewhat smaller than the last. It bordered on a small lake, the water completely still with no indication of how it was possibly fed. No waterfall tumbled into this one, almost like a sheet of glass.

A ghostly apparition appeared in the doorway of the shrine. He looked very similar to Gelebor, except garbed in a robe instead of armour and that he was not truly there. The spirit calmly bowed, looking to the two women as though he’d been expecting them. “Welcome Initiates. This is the Wayshrine of Illumination. Are you prepared to honour the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with his enlightenment?”

They looked between one another before Natalie stepped forward, “We are.”

“Then behold Auri-El's gift, my children. May it light your path as you seek tranquillity within the Inner Sanctum. May Auri-El's brilliance illuminate your path.” The attendant strode into the wayshrine, leading them through to a back room the same as Gelebor’s. He waved his hand, a basin and mirror rising from the floor.

Serana strode forward, filling the ewer with the sacred water. Natalie joined her in front of the mirror, trying to psyche herself up for the pain that would inevitably follow their journey to wherever this led them.

The wayshrine’s guardian waved his hand once more, the blinding white portal opening before the two women. Natalie’s right hand found Serana’s left, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tightly. The elf gave a tiny nod, moving forward into the portal.

As expected, their travel through the magical doorway sent Natalie’s left arm limp to her side, a scream ripping from her lips. The pain felt even more intense than before. Never before had she ripped away the enchantment this soon after casting it. Her fingers gripped even tighter on Serana’s, who helped lower her to the ground. Serana placed the ewer on the ground and spun the crystal, the enchantment circle forming before them once more.

Natalie immediately moved her arm onto it and cast the spell, the deep green lightning sparking along her destroyed flesh, returning it to working condition. She stayed on her hands and knees for several moments, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose onto the ground.

Natalie fell back, wiping her forehead clear. Her breathing slowed, heartrate along with it. “I might kill Gelebor if we seem him again.” She turned her gauntlet over, checking for any imperfections in her spell with a critical eye, “Even if it involves more portals.”

Serana picked up the ewer, finally able to look around the cave they’d ended up in. The portal closed behind them with a snap, leaving behind the smell of slightly burnt air and an inert mirror. “I may join you. This is ridiculous.” She almost cast a mage-light, but noticed the cave gave off its own light. Crystals were scattered about the area, glowing with small amounts of magic. She tapped one with a finger, sending a pulsing line through it. “Look at this.”

Natalie raised her head, looking at the crystals. She’d seen them before in some Dwemer ruins, but nothing this large. She joined Serana, holding out her gauntlet. The moment she tapped, the crystal shattered, shards falling to the ground. “Uh… whoops?”

“I guess add crystal shattering to the list of enchantments that gauntlet has?”

Natalie laughed, “I guess so.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw daylight. Natalie turned towards it, half-jogging over to it. Around a bend in the cave, the light streamed into the cavern. “That’s comforting at least.” She turned back, “Serana! Found a way outside.” She walked off, exiting the cave.

Serana soon followed, “That’s great! I think I’ve spent enough time undergr…” Her speech stuttered to a stop.

Both women were left speechless at the landscape in front of them.

A huge valley stretched out ahead, blanketed in snow. It was obvious that almost no human or elf had been here for millennia, only a few tiny buildings visible in the incredible vista spread out before them. Natalie could spy a few Falmer camps dotting the landscape, but they were few and far between. The trees within the valley were in small dense forests, completely covered in white powder like everything else. The whole depression followed the mountain range, curving its way out of their sight.

Serana’s hand found its way into Natalie’s, both moving subconsciously to thread their fingers together. “This place is beautiful. We’re probably the first ones to make it through in centuries.” Serana smiled, turning her head to look at the elf, “I’m glad we’re here together.”

Natalie felt the tips of her pointed ears start to burn as a blush crept its way onto her cheeks. She coughed, breaking their eye contact and looking to the ground. She didn’t move to take her hand away, leaving it in Serana’s warm grasp. “Me too.” Her whispered words brought a light blush to Serana’s own cheeks.

They looked out over the valley for several minutes before Serana pointed to a small structure in the distance. “I think that’s the next shrine. Looks like the ones in the cave, don’t you think?”

“Only thing that looks remotely close. We should get moving.”

A shallow path led the two vampires down into the valley, Natalie using the sun to track their direction when the trees swallowed their view of the wayshrine. Soon, they reached the floor, the path all but disappearing. Natalie led the way into a thicket of trees, a light covering of snow on the ground crunching beneath their feet and echoing off the trees. Natalie relished the cold snow on her feet, one of the things she enjoyed most about living in Skyrim.

Both women froze. A growl filled their ears from somewhere deeper in the forest. Natalie’s head rose to face the sound, a flash of white fur blurring across her vision in the distance. She dropped down into a squat, holding her position still. The growling grew closer, the fur once more catching her eye. The crunch of snow and the scrape of metal on leather from behind her caused Natalie to rotate her head and stare at Serana, cringing at the sound her foot and dagger had made. Natalie held her finger to her lips and waved Serana to do the same as her. The vampire princess obeyed, squatting down a few steps behind Natalie.

The source of the growl came into view. A huge white furred tiger stalked towards them, two sharp teeth jutting from his mouth. His menacing warning only grew louder as he padded towards Natalie, his yellow eyes locked on her forest green ones. Natalie was completely calm, her face impassive as she held the great beasts gaze. She held out her right hand, facing her palm upwards.

The tiger recoiled slightly, unsure of this creature in front of him. It acted nothing like any other he had hunted. Most ran away before he could get this close. The chase made the hunt all the more fun. But this being looked different. This one had a pelt, only coming from its head, but a pelt nonetheless. Smelled different too. More like him, but also different. Something was strange about this thing, he just had to figure it out. He came closer, sinking further into the snow until he was practically crawling. His pelt had camouflaged him in the past, it would work now too. His powerful legs were ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Saliva begin to build up at the promise of a meal.

Natalie kept her gaze locked on the tiger’s; confident her vampiric strength would be enough to overpower him if it came down to that. The tiger was within striking distance when he hesitated. He lifted his great head up, curiously sniffing at the offered hand. He towered over Natalie’s small frame, easily dwarfing her in her squatting position. The elf watched as the tiger thought over what to make of her. The white fur moved past her head, teeth progressing dangerously close to her face.

One last sniff and all the hostility in the air evaporated. The tiger reached out and licked a long line up the side of Natalie’s face. Her laughter burst forth at the tiger’s actions, falling backwards as the tiger pounced on her. He nuzzled his face to the side of Natalie’s, more laughter echoing in the forest. Natalie used her strength to roll the tiger off her onto its back, rubbing at its exposed stomach, careful not to cut the huge beast with her gauntlet.   
“Who’s a good kitty cat?” He looked at Natalie in confusion, seeming to wait for an answer to the almost paralysing question, “You are! That’s who!” Her answer sent him into a euphoria, tongue lolling out of his mouth as Natalie ran her hands up and down his belly.

Serana watched on in amazement and bewilderment as Natalie played with the enormous cat. She had been preparing to fire a spell the moment the beast attacked and instead, here she was, watching a Wood Elf rub the stomach of possibly the largest tiger she had ever seen. How Natalie had accomplished such a feat was beyond her. If Serana had her way, the beast would’ve been dead the moment it became visible to them. Natalie had somehow transformed an incredible dangerous enemy into a ball of fluff, no more harmful to them than a fly.

Natalie looked up from the tiger to find Serana staring at them. She grinned, “Come on, he’s a big softie really.” She turned back to scratch right up under his chin, “Isn’t that right boy?” The noise that came from him was as close to laughter as he could make, Serana was sure of it.

Serana edged forward to kneel next to Natalie, the tiger paying her no attention, too lost in the elf’s petting. She stuck her hand forward at a snail’s pace, creeping closer to the tiger’s body. Natalie rolled her eyes and grabbed her wrist, shoving her hand into the dense fur. Serana almost fell backwards with fright. The tiger didn’t seem to mind. If anything, it was happier with two of these creatures rubbing his belly. Serana’s laughter joined Natalie’s at the ridiculousness of the situation.

The tiger soon rolled over, resting his head in Natalie’s lap. She gently scratched behind his ears, a deep purring emanating from within his cavernous chest. “How’d you do it?”

Natalie looked up at the question, “How’d I do what?”

“Get this thing to not try to kill us on sight.”

The elf chuckled, “Ah yes, that. Well, I’ve always had a way with animals.” She lifted the tiger’s head, moving side to side with her hands through the fur under his chin, “This big guy included. Nearly every animal reacts the same way, even humans and elves. Don’t treat them with hostility, they won’t do it to you. Of course, it’s not true with all of them. Almost had my hand bitten off more times than I can count doing exactly this.” A ponderous look crossed her face, “Dragons don’t seem to like it. Though to be fair, I've only tried it with them once. And they’re smarter than most people I know.” Her gaze returned to Serana’s, a mischievous grin on her face, “Usually see through it.”

“You tried to calm down a dragon?” Serana’s deadpan stare almost sent Natalie into a fit of giggles.

“Yes, but with the threat of me stealing their soul, it’s not that enticing.”

Serana shook her head, looking in the direction of the wayshrine. “I think we should continue on.”

Natalie rose to her feet, the great cat rising with her to stand guard. “Yeah.” She turned to the tiger, ruffling the fur on top of his head, “Run along. Go hunt a big stag. Do me proud.” He hesitated before stalking off, disappearing into the snow, his fur a complete camouflage.

The two vampires walked through the forest, soon exiting it to find a small path winding its way gently up the mountain. At the top, the wayshrine was visible, reflecting the sunlight off its polished exterior. Another of the spectral attendants came from the entrance, echoing the first’s words, welcoming them to its own shine, “Welcome Initiates. This is the Wayshrine of Sight. Are you prepared to honour the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with his enlightenment?”

“We are.” Natalie’s and Serana’s voices sounded together.

“Then behold Auri-El’s gift, my children. May it speed your journey to the Inner Sanctum. May Auri-El’s light guide you in your darkest hours.”

Serana filled the ewer with the offered liquid, returning to stand at Natalie’s side overlooking the valley. Natalie scanned the surroundings for any sign of the next wayshrine. She found nothing, not even a hint of the stone of their next destination. Natalie grumbled to herself, “Great. Hunting for a building it is.” Serana’s eyes widened as she stared further into the valley. She reached out a hand blindly tapping at Natalie’s shoulder, “What?”

Serana grabbed Natalie’s shoulder, turning her to look in the same direction as her. “That.” On the other side of the valley in the distance, the air shimmered, becoming more distorted by the second. Slowly, the landscape revealed itself. The shrine sprung into view, previously hidden by unknown magic. Serana looked down into the ewer, knowing the water within had something to do with the dispelling of the illusion, but no idea how this was possible. Using complicated magic such as this at this distance was unheard of.

Natalie closed her eyes, holding her hands out in front of her. She could feel the tendrils of magic flowing through the air. She latched onto one, following it through the valley. It extended far beyond where she could see, connecting with several specific points in the landscape, including the newly revealed wayshrine. It ended at the point of the valley, the mountains coming together far beyond their current position. Natalie could feel a gigantic confluence of magic, almost like the College of Winterhold in its sheer power. Natalie knew this had to be the Inner Sanctum, their final destination. Gelebor had not lied. As well as obviously being sacred to the Snow Elves, the magic within it would make for an enticing goal, no matter who came for it. Natalie wondered if the signature she felt at the Sanctum itself was Auriel’s Bow or the Snow Elf they had been sent to kill. She hoped it was the former, not particularly looking forward to challenging the latter if what she felt was him.

Natalie started off toward the next wayshrine without a word, arms dropping to her sides. Serana followed without question. She’d felt what Natalie had felt, the magic winding through the valley, lacing the very air itself with power. This whole area was sacred. The power of a god permeated the entire landscape, penetrating deep into the earth. Auri-El or Akatosh, whichever version of the god existed, had truly blessed this place. They strode on venerated ground. They could not take their task lightly, even if there were no true believers still occupying the shrines.

The trip to the valley’s depths was swift, the path towards the next wayshrine steeply declining to the bottom. This time, the wayshrine was never hidden from their view, a path to it crossing not a single forest. Natalie could only see one issue. They would have to cross a frozen lake, or risk losing sight of the shrine. They arrived at the shore of the lake, Natalie squatting down to inspect the ice.

“Looks thick enough to cross.” Serana rested a foot on the frozen water and began to exert more of her weight experimentally. Not even a creak came from the ice. “Thick enough at the edges at least.”

Natalie nodded, satisfied with Serana’s assertions. “I can always Shout us across if it comes down to it.” Natalie stood, calmly beginning the walk across the ice. She kept her normal walking pace, not even coming remotely close to slipping.

On the other hand, Serana edged onto the ice, feeling as though her feet would slip out from under her at any moment. Natalie was halfway across before she looked back and saw Serana had barely made it ten metres. Soft laughter rang out as she watched the vampire princess struggle to take each step. The elf took a step toward her.

A crack formed beneath her feet, racing away off to her side. The two women locked eyes. “Oh fuck.” Natalie’s two words were answered by even more cracks, further away from her in the centre of the lake. She instantly realised it wasn’t her making the cracks. It was something underneath. A massive shape rushed beneath her. “RUN!” Natalie’s warning sent Serana scurrying to the edge, almost slipping over and smashing the ewer. She managed to make it off and collapsed into a snowbank.

Natalie was not so lucky. The breaks in the ice intensified around her position and Serana watched on in horror as the ice split, Natalie plunging beneath it, disappearing from her sight.

The ice-cold water completely enveloped her body. Natalie opened her eyes as soon as she was able, looking out into the surrounding lake. There was almost complete darkness, the lake deep enough that the afternoon sun above was not enough to illuminate through the ice to see the bottom. She stared forward, her keen hearing picking up something ahead of her in the water. The noise was getting louder. Her eyes widened as the shape she’d seen underneath the ice before sped towards her. Her reaction was instant, lining herself up with the hole she’d fallen through and orienting herself with the depths of the lake.

“ _FUS RO DAH_!” Natalie half-imagined-half-used the Shout.

Serana looked on in amazement as Natalie rocketed out of the hole in the ice, tumbling through the air before righting herself and landing hard, skidding away on the ice. She’d drawn both swords in mid-air, the blades carving twin paths where Natalie had buried their tips in the ice to slow her momentum. Natalie rose, leaving one of the swords buried and pushing her soaked mane of hair behind her head. A quick spell and it tied itself into a braid. Natalie pulled her second sword out, falling into her practiced battle stance.

She waited, the whole environment still around her. All was quiet. The silence was shattered moments later.

Slightly off to the right, a huge shape shattered through the ice, entire sheets moving out of the way to accommodate its frame. A second mass broke through in front of her to her left, the same size as the first. Natalie’s eyes widened.

She was confronted by two dragons, among the largest she’d ever faced. Alduin would still have dwarfed them both, but these two were considerable in their own right. How they’d come to rest beneath the ice of this huge lake was beyond her, but she would have to ponder the question later. She was ready for this fight. She retrieved her mask from her belt, fastening it over her head. She looked every bit the Dragonborn of Skyrim’s legends.

The dragons roared, frost spilling from their maws to fill the air above their heads. Natalie sprinted at the righthand one, her footfalls barely leaving a mark on the ice. The dragon focused in on her, eyeing the mask covering her face. It realised what it was, voicing its anger at the death of the priest of their master. Natalie deduced from its reaction that it did not know of Alduin’s death. She smirked, another weapon in her arsenal to use against it.

The dragon charged, breaking the ice below its feet into huge chunks. Frost leaked from the sides of its mouth, giving it an aura of icicles. Natalie used her natural agility, leaping between the pieces of ice towards the dragon. The beast moved with enough force to crack the ice far ahead of its position. Natalie made a split-second decision, eyeing the cracks in the ice and following them all the way to their progenitor. She slammed a single foot down with all her vampiric-enhanced strength.

The ice rose up in a huge wedge, the tip of it striking the dragon on the bottom of the jaw. His head forced up and concentration broken, Natalie redoubled her speed, sprinting up the ice, sailing over the razor-sharp teeth. She grabbed onto the horn at the tip of its nose, changing her direction and sliding down its neck and onto the spine of it. Swords flashed down as soon as she was able, carving two bloody lines of gruesome carnage along its back.

Natalie flipped off its back, resuming her run along the ice. She deftly leapt and dodged the other dragon’s attacks, ice missing her by barely an inch. The first dragon announced its pain, enough ice erupting from its throat to fill the air and cause the lake to be covered in a fresh layer of snow. Wherever its blood touched the ice, steam rose, the liquid hot enough to boil the solid instantaneously. It soon weakened the ice too much, the dragon falling through into the water below. Its roar was silenced as it dropped completely below the surface. Steam streamed from the hole, its blood staining the water a deep red.

Natalie slid to a stop, eyeing the break in the ice. The dragon’s soul did not flow into her. The beast would still be in play and could not be ignored. Her swords returned to their scabbards, bow filling her hand. The second dragon eyed her warily. It did not know her, or it would have called her Dovahkiin at some point. These dragons knew nothing of the events of the last 60 years, that much was obvious. They didn’t know their master was dead and that Natalie was responsible.

Natalie drew an arrow, pulling the string of her bow back calmly. She charged the arrow with just enough fire magic to make it explode, but not enough to be visible. The arrow burned through the air, the dragon calculating it would not strike its body at its current position.

The arrow landed in the ice, embedding itself deeply. A smile formed on the dragons twisted maw before the arrow exploded. The dragon was sent reeling away, shrouded in steam from the explosion. Its scream of frustration cut through the air. It turned its head back to where the arrow had been fired from, but not quickly enough.

Natalie sailed through the cloud of steam, gauntlet covered in flames and lightning, a battle-cry ripping from her throat. She’d leapt from the perfect distance, shattering the ice beneath her, only just stable enough to allow her to make the leap. She brought her fist around, breaking the dragon’s jaw in a single punch. The flames burnt the sensitive skin around the dragon’s mouth, instantly heating past an ice dragons natural defence against flames. The lightning arced across its skin, entering its mouth and passing between its teeth, scorching the flesh within. The head was sent flying away from her, the force of her punch completely overwhelming the dragon’s neck muscles.

The Dragonborn had never before considered killing a dragon with just her fists and a little bit of magic. She had never had the physical strength to accomplish such a feat before. But now… a vampire’s strength, a pure vampire’s at that, may actually be enough to slay one of the magnificent creatures.

Serana pelted the dragon with magic from the shore, throwing bolts of lightning, spears of ice and balls of fire at the enemy. Natalie advanced, dodging the wings when they swung around to strike her. She responded with her fists, every punch to the dragon’s neck and chest breaking bones. Natalie had managed to get inside its range of attack, the wings impossible to use as melee weapons against her. She bent backwards, a scaled leg sailing above her. Natalie brought her gauntlet up and into the side of the beast as hard as she possibly could, using magic to enhance her strength even further.

She had hit the dragon with enough force to send it airborne. The dragon flew away from her, crashing onto the ice and sliding away. Its first attempt to rise failed, body collapsing to lay on the ice. It roared, gaining its feet and staring Natalie down.

“IS THAT THE BEST YOU CAN DO?!” Natalie’s yell echoed through the valley, scattering birds from nearby trees. “I AM _DOVAHKIIN_! SLAYER OF ALDUIN!”

The dragon stared at the small creature in front of it. “ ** _Impossible. Alduin is everlasting. He will return at the end times._** ”

Natalie laughed, “Maybe…”, her voiced turned cold, “But you won’t be there to see it.”

The two dragon souls roared, one coming from the elf, the other from the _Dovah._ Natalie’s ears pricked up at a sound below her, already forming a plan. The elf charged, building up magic in her palms, tattoos sputtering to life. She repeated her previous action, slamming her foot down and pushing a wedge of ice into the air. She used it to take to the air, continuing her upwards travel as she pushed off the tip of the ice.

The other dragon followed her, breaking through the ice underneath her, attempting to swallow her in mid-air.

Natalie countered. Streams of fire erupted from her hands, one for each of the reptilian beasts below her. Both had their intended impact, flooding the throats of the dragons. The fire escaped through each of their wounds, cooking them from the inside.

Natalie turned off her magic, her momentum sending her soaring over the enflamed dragons. She landed on her back, skidding to a stop some ways away, breathing hard. Each dragon gave a final roar, sensing their time on Nirn was over. They tried and failed to rise, bodies sinking back beneath the ice. Natalie sighed in relief, getting up off the ice to stand tall.

The souls of the deceased came from the water, rushing to Natalie and absorbing into her body. The golden light flowed around her, bright lines connecting with each of the runes up and down her arms. She grunted and stumbled back a step at the rush of power. She had not felt this in many years, the sensation always sending a tingle down her spine. All at once, her exhaustion disappeared, completely renewed.

Serana kept her gaze locked on Natalie as she made her way back to the shore. Blocks of ice floated in the water, Natalie jumping between them with graceful leaps. The elf sat in the snow next to her, removing her mask and looking out over the lake. It was completely destroyed. Where there had been a solid sheet of ice the entire way across, only shards and small pieces bobbed up and down in the disturbed waters. Natalie looked up, meeting Serana’s gaze, “What?”

Serana cocked her head at the elf, “Have fun?”

Natalie grinned, “Oh yeah. Love killing dragons.” She waved her hands out over the ice, “At least I could contain these two.”

“You weren’t kidding about the consuming their souls thing.”

“It’s actually quite refreshing. You should try it sometime.”

Serana chuckled, “If you can figure out how to make me Dragonborn, maybe I will.”

“Can’t be that hard right? Only have to be born with a dragon’s soul, I’m sure we can shove one up in there somewhere.” Serana’s chuckle turned into a short bark of laughter.

Natalie shivered, suddenly aware her armour and hair were still soaked through to her skin. She rubbed her hands together, small flames springing to life between them. They spread, covering her entire body with a gentle aura. Steam rose from her as the water evaporated, drying out her armour. The snow around her melted along with it, rivulets of water flowing into the lake. The black-purple leather soon clung to her frame due to its design, not that it was drenched in freezing water. She sighed at the sensation, dry and warm once more. The flames dissipated, sinking into her skin, heating her core.

Natalie looked up to the wayshrine on the other side of the lake. “We should get moving. Hopefully no more dragons on the way.”

They followed the lake’s shore, careful to avoid falling into the icy water. To Natalie’s joy, they never lost sight of the wayshrine. It seemed that at whatever angle they viewed it from, it was always visible. The polished stone soon grew closer as they rounded the head of the lake and made their way to it. It was almost an exact replica of the previous, even down to the ghostly attendant emerging from its interior to stand on the threshold.

“Welcome, Initiates. This is the Wayshrine of Sight. Are you prepared to honour the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with his enlightenment?”

Serana rolled her eyes at the monotonous tone of the priest, but still strode forward to answer, avoiding the possibility they would be barred if they didn’t answer correctly, “We are”

“Then behold Auri-El’s gift, my children. May it speed your journey to the Inner Sanctum. May Auri-El’s light guide you in your darkest hours.” The water entered the ewer and they were on their way, ready to face the rest of the valley’s challenges.

As Natalie and Serana ventured further into the valley, the mountains above began to block more of the sunlight. They loomed oppressively over them, the darkness they cast warning them of the peril they could face at the end of the valley itself. Natalie kept a careful eye on their surroundings, eyeing Falmer in the distance following their movement. She drew the twin silver swords from their scabbards, gripping their hilts tightly and ensuring the small amount of sun that reached them reflected off the gleaming metal. The fallen elves made no attempt to get closer, preferring to keep knowledge of their location from afar. Natalie was convinced they were afraid of the blades. If she could figure out why, maybe they could use it to their advantage, even start giving the twisted creatures orders. At the very least, they allowed them to travel unimpeded through the valley.

The ewer was filled at two more shrines, Learning and Resolution. The mountains above them gave way to glaciers, soaring to heights far above the two vampires. The ice’s thickness prevented almost all sunlight from travelling through, the rays that did get through casting an eerie blue glow over everything. The two walls met at the point of the valley, only a thin crack at their base giving any path forward.

The two vampires stalked towards the crack, wary of the Falmer they could see lurking off to the sides. When they reached between the two glaciers, Natalie glanced behind them, watching as the elves moved to essentially block their exit. She knew they had no chance of stopping her and Serana if they chose to go back, but their actions still unnerved her. Natalie sheathed the blades, trapping the path behind them with exploding runes to ensure they couldn’t be followed.

The path through the icebergs widened, bringing them into a secondary canyon. The earth beneath their feet gave way to a path made of stones and ice, barely a thin layer of the rocks covering the frozen water. Serana pointed up, the final shrine in sight. The winding path took them higher up the glacier, finally reaching the wayshrine itself.

An ethereal figure appeared in front of them out of thin air, still some distance from the shrine. Like all the others, a Snow Elf stood in front of them. Unlike all of the others, this one was female and glared at them as though she could see them for what they truly were. Her ghostly robes were resplendent in their grandeur, far more adorned than any of the previous shrine’s keepers. She strode forward until she was inches away from Natalie, looking down at the significantly shorter Wood Elf.

The unearthly woman’s voice rang out, extraordinarily loud in Natalie’s ears, “You’ve found the Wayshrine of Radiance, Initiate. Do you think yourself worthy of Auri-El’s light?”

Natalie was taken aback by her cold tone. She stared up at her defiant, resting her hands on the pommels of the silver blades, “I do.”

“You would honour the mantras of Auri-El and fill your vessel with his enlightenment?”

“I would.”

The attendant’s eyes narrowed, “No.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

“You are not worthy. You will not honour the mantras of Auri-El. I banish you.” She raised her hands in front of her, shining with white light, “Begone from this place!”

Before Natalie could react, the hands slammed forward, forcing the light into her chest with one hand, and the other into Serana’s. The elder vampire was thrown backwards, lightning fast reflexes covering the ewer’s top and rolling in the air to take the impact and ensure none of its precious cargo spilled. Natalie remained still, nothing happening to her. She and the priestess stood there for a moment completely still. A look of confusion crossed the face of the spirit. With a flash of radiance, the attendant was thrown backwards, tumbling through the air before landing in the threshold of the wayshrine.

She rose to a kneeling position staring at Natalie. Her ethereal state allowed her to see what her magic had done. An intense magical signature now burned in Natalie’s core, almost blinding with its force. This woman was the one she’d been waiting so long for. Her vigil had actually been worthwhile after all. “You… you… you are one of his chosen?!” She grovelled in front of the elf, her forehead touching the rocks beneath her, “In all my millennia of waiting, not one of you have made it here. My body has even decayed away, but my spirit remains strong.” Her head rose up, “I knew you’d come one day!”

Serana made her way back to Natalie, eyeing the spirit. The elf shrugged her shoulders at her companion, “What is it you think I am?”

“One of the Chosen of Auri-El of course!” The two vampires exchanged a confused look, “You were blessed by the one you call Akatosh, Auri-El to me. You have the soul of one of his greatest creations!”

The pieces fell into place, “You’re talking about me being Dragonborn?”

“Dragonborn, Child of Akatosh, Chosen of Auri-El, they are all the same!” She floated to her feet, moving aside to reveal the entrance to the wayshrine and the basin within, “Please forgive me for my actions. I had almost lost hope your radiance would ever come. Please, enter.” The priestess regained her composure, standing with as much grace as she could muster, “May the blessings of Auri-El protect you as you climb the road to the Inner Sanctum and final enlightenment. May Auri-El’s radiance fill your heart with joy.” Her voice intoned the traditional words with great reverence, words she'd practiced hundred of times before.

Serana cautiously approached, filling the ewer with the final sacred waters. A brief glow emanated from the container, quickly disappearing. Serana peered inside, only seeing clear water and nothing more. She began to make her way further on the path to their destination but stopped when she looked back and saw Natalie wasn’t following.

The elf hesitated, trying to form the question in her mind, “Why would you let me pass?”

The priestess gave a blank look, “I’m not sure what you mean Child.”

“What has being Dragonborn got to do with being worthy of Auri-El’s light?”

“You were chosen by Auri-El to be his messenger in this plane. I am but a lowly priestess, not even fit to gaze on the Inner Sanctum for myself. Who am I to hinder your passage to enlightenment?”

Natalie pondered over her words, deciding that was the best answer she would get. She studied the priestess, trying to figure her out, “Why are you so different to the other wayshrine’s attendants? The others spoke nothing except for welcoming us to the shrine and allowing us to take the water.”

The woman sighed, “I have often wondered this myself. I felt all of their deaths. I was the last to pass on from the mortal plane. And yet, I am the only one to retain my true consciousness.” Her expression turned troubled, “Perhaps because this is the last wayshrine before the Inner Sanctum, Auri-El blessed me, to ensure none but those truly worthy could pass.” She broke their eye contact, “I had often wondered if this was in fact a curse. Never to fully realise my purpose,” Their eyes returned to look at one another, “Then you arrived, and I see I have been waiting for this exact moment.”

Natalie bowed formally to the spirit, “Auri-El be with you, priestess.”

The bow was quickly returned, a surprised expression on the priestess’ face, “And with you, Dragonborn.” She watched Natalie and Serana walk away on the path, finally at peace after her centuries of waiting. She felt the tug of the afterlife calling her. Her ancient purpose fulfilled, her true consciousness faded away, leaving only the empty husk of a spirit to guide any who came after the two vampires.

Natalie almost stopped walking. She felt the presence of the true priestess disappear from behind them. A small smile came to her face, knowing she had brought peace to at least once person in this whole journey, even if it was extremely late.

The two glaciers once more pressed in on either side of them, a winding path leading them forward. They eventually began to widen, one moving away to leave a dark pit on the right side of their path. Natalie moved as close as she could to the wall that remained, not wanting to repeat her near-plummet to the ground far below from before they had entered Darkfall Cave. The Dragonborn was so focused on the ground that she didn’t notice Serana stop. She bumped into her, almost calling her out on it before looking up and seeing what had caused the sudden halt of their journey. Natalie’s mouth fell open at the sight. A bridge of pure ice, clear as water, stretched over the canyon they were walking beside. It led to a magnificent temple, definitely the Inner Sanctum that Gelebor had described.

“That… that has to the place, right?” Serana’s voice was full of wonder, this temple was far beyond anything they’d seen in the valley so far.

“Has to be.” Natalie’s eyes swept over the structure, “This must be Snow Elven architecture. It’s beautiful.” She tentatively placed a foot on the bridge, putting more of her weight down till all of it rested on the pure ice, “I’m amazed this bridge hasn’t melted.”

The bridge held as they crossed it, passing the outer walls of the Sanctum. The courtyard inside was barren except for a huge statue in the centre. Serana walked around it, inspecting every inch of the pure white stone. “It’s a statue of Auri-El, but it’s using older signs of his power.” She ran her hand down the smooth surface. It came away with not even a speck of snow or dust, “I think this is older than I am. This temple must be ancient. How it has stood for so long is a miracle. The bow has to be in here.”

Serana hefted the ewer into both arms, spying a basin in front of the great front doors into the temple proper. The moment she began pouring and the water touched the stone, a rumbling sound echoed around them. The doors creaked open; the metal used in their construction screeching its protest at being opened for the first time in what must have been millennia. The interior was dark, barely any light getting through to the inside. There was enough to see, but not much more.

The swords’ hilts filled Natalie’s hands, preparing for the fight with Gelebor’s brother. None came, the temple remaining utterly silent. The two women edged forward, entering the temple. The doors abruptly shut behind them, plunging them into the temple’s darkness. Natalie spun to look at the entrance, instantly finding each of its structural weaknesses, just in case they needed to get back through the doors and they couldn’t open them conventionally.

Serana tapped Natalie’s shoulder, pointing to blocks of ice spread all around the foyer of the temple. Within the opaque structures they could spy corpses, dressed in the same clothing as they priests and priestess they’d passed. “These Snow Elves are… they’re frozen in the ice. I wonder how long they’ve been like this.” Serana shuddered, “And I thought the Soul Cairn was creepy.”

Natalie nodded at Serana’s comment. Every single piece of ice contained the corpse of a Snow Elf in various states of distress. Natalie could see the obvious stains of blood on their clothing, some with limbs ripped clean off. Others looked as though they were probably alive when they were initially frozen, but the years had stolen the life from their bodies. “Gelebor was right. Falmer did do this. The wounds give it away.” She peered closer at the ice surrounding the corpses, “Although, I haven’t heard of Falmer being able to use magic enough to do this.”

They forged a path further into the temple, room after room filled with more blocks of ice and more Snow Elf corpses. Natalie noticed some of the crystals from the cave they’d entered the valley through being used as light sources. She almost touched one before she noticed one of the icicles. As she looked closer, she realised it wasn’t a Snow Elf within, but a Falmer. Serana came up behind her, eyeing it for herself. “So, the Falmer didn’t do all this. Or at least, not freezing all the elves.”

Natalie’s confusion rose, “Who would’ve done this then? It would have made sense for one side or the other to freeze their enemy, but both? Doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe Gelebor’s brother will have the answer. Maybe he’s even responsible.”

The further they progressed, the more of the ice contained Falmer instead of Snow Elves. They ascended several flights of stairs, obvious signs of carnage all around them. Much of the temple’s incredibly detailed architecture lay in ruins, the bannisters on the side of the stairs with cracks running through them, some sections missing entirely. The battle that had taken place here must have been unbelievably fierce for this much of the temple to have been ruined.

Soon, no Snow Elves were visible at all, only Falmer within. None of the fallen elves looked like they had fought anything. They had no visible injuries, and their weapons were raised as though they were charging through the temple to some location within. Natalie and Serana found what it was.

They opened a set of grandiose doors, the largest room they’d yet found revealed before them. Two staircases swept off to the sides leading to a large balcony. Even more of the frozen Falmer were spread around the room, far more clustered than previous rooms. On the far side, the crowd of Falmer abruptly stopped, a clear space leading to a small set of stairs and a throne. A figure sat in the throne, almost a clone of Gelebor.

Natalie drew her bow, notching an arrow into the string. The figure’s head rose slightly to look at them, eyes judging them as the two women made their way closer. They froze as they made it halfway through the crowd of ice blocks, the figure on the throne rising to his feet.

He strode down into the clear space in front of his throne, hands clasped behind his back, “You came to claim Auriel’s Bow, I presume?” The two women remained silent, Natalie pulling the string on her bow back and aiming at the Snow Elf, “That’s a little rude, isn’t it? What have I done to deserve an arrow pointed at me?” His face twisted into a slight frown, “Oh but of course, my manners… I have forgotten them after so long.” A smile spread across his face, “I didn’t introduce myself! I am Vyrthur, Arch Curate of this temple to Auri-El.”

Natalie perfected her aim, sighting down to exactly where Vyrthur’s heart would be, “Then you’re the one we’re looking for.”

“Ah but of course. My brother sent you here, didn’t he? Always troublesome that one…” His smile turned maniacal as his gaze flitted between the two women, “Though I suppose he did send me exactly what I need. And two of them to boot! I must say, you are both rather fetching.” He raised his hands, a gentle glow pulsing from them. Natalie released the arrow, intending to take him down before he could cast even a single spell. Vyrthur’s hand moved perfectly, in place before the arrow was even halfway to him. He caught it out of the air in the middle of the shaft. The piece of dragonbone twirled in his hands before he snapped it, the pieces clattering to the ground. “It’s good I don’t need either of you alive, or this would be rather difficult.”

The glow came back faster than Natalie could draw another arrow, two small orbs flying from the Arch Curate’s hands and hovering above Natalie and Serana. They split, flying down to collide with every single ice block and absorb into them. The Falmer bodies within stirred, vibrating. All at once, every piece of ice shattered, freeing their captives.

Natalie and Serana were suddenly surrounded, the Falmer completely ignoring Vyrthur and instead focusing entirely on them. Natalie rapidly switched her bow out for the two silver blades, sending her power through the metal and igniting them. Serana drew her dagger, an ice lance instantly protruding from her other hand.

“Your usefulness has come to an end I’m afraid. It was nice meeting you both.” The words echoed in the temple for but a moment, Falmer screeches drowning out any remnants of them.

Natalie leapt into action, cutting down Falmer left and right, her blades a blur in the air. Flames and lightning shot from the end of very swing, slaughtering even more of the fallen elves. Her eyes flashed red with every use of magic, using her vampiric strength to send Falmer flying every chance she got. She moved away from Serana, separating the Falmer into two groups and allowing them to each combat less of the force.

Serana’s dagger found Falmer throats easily, a quick stab and the bodies began to pile up around her. Spears of ice erupted from her hands and impaled anything that got too close, accompanied by bolts of lightning and balls of flame exploding against the horde. The gold in her eyes disappeared as she completely surrendered her control over their appearance.

Both vampires and Falmer briefly stopped fighting at the sound of a roar. A white blur sprinted into the room, taking one of the Falmer and ripping an arm off with a single shake of its mighty head. Natalie stared in amazement at the tiger she had befriended. The battle resumed in earnest, the tiger taking down its fair share of foes, barely taking any injuries to himself.

Falmer blood made the floor slick as it was spilled everywhere. No Falmer could even get a single hit in on either of the two women, their speed and strength far overwhelming even the advantage the Falmer’s sheer numbers gave. With one final roar, Natalie decapitated the last fallen elf, head skidding on the cold floor to stop only a few metres from Vyrthur’s feet. With a hurried wave of Natalie’s hand, the white tiger retreated, slinking out of the room.

Vyrthur stared at the swords in Natalie’s hands, an unreadable expression on his face. His gaze did not leave them even as Natalie and Serana strode to stand in front of him. His small army of Falmer was decimated, but he didn’t care. He had seen all he needed to. “The Twin Swords of Auriel.”

Natalie followed his gaze to the blades, “What?”

He continued on, ignoring Natalie’s question, “I never thought I’d see those again. How ironic that I cast them out, and yet they come back. To taunt me…” Vyrthur seemed to snap back to attention, “Never mind that. I will admit, that was an impressive display of martial ability. Wasted of course, but impressive nonetheless.” The smile returned to his face, twisting his features into a slight sneer, “You’ve delayed nothing but your own deaths.”

Vyrthur’s hands rose up with incredible speed, his magic sending cracks running through the floor, up the walls and into the ceiling itself. Serana’s eyes widened, diving for Natalie, “He’s pulling down the ceiling, watch out!”

Both women had the same idea, wards surrounding both of their bodies. The two sources of magic intertwined with one another, reinforcing them into an even stronger barrier. The ceiling above collapsed just as they completed the ward, pieces crashing down in a brilliant display of sparks as they reflected off of it. The force on the floor was soon too much, sending Natalie and Serana tumbling down to the floor below, along with the numerous corpses of the Falmer.

The demolition finally stopped. They were buried under tonnes of rubble, the ward barely holding underneath the weight. Both vampires managed to clamber to their feet, sweating under the exertion of maintaining the magical barricade. Natalie spoke, having to force the words out between gritted teeth, “On the count of three, expand the ward up and outwards. Okay?” Serana nodded, her magicka complaining at the power currently flowing through her. “One… two… THREE!” With twin yells, the ward rushed up, forcing the rubble above out of the way and sending it flying. Natalie prepared to stop any pieces that fell back down but sighed in relief as the small hole they were in remained stable.

Serana clambered out of the hole, hoisting herself back up onto the floor they had descended from. Vyrthur had left, leaving the room empty. She helped Natalie back up, both surveying their surroundings for where he might have gone. “Are you alright?”

Natalie nodded, spinning to look in every direction, “Where did he go?”

Serana’s ears twitched at a sound above them. She turned to Natalie, the look on the elf’s face telling her she’d heard it too. Serana motioned upwards and to both sides, Natalie offering a nod in response. Serana went up one staircase, Natalie finding her way to the other.

They found Vyrthur on the balcony as Serana had predicted, surveying the landscape spread out in front of him. His back was turned, waiting for them. Serana strode forward quietly, keeping her dagger drawn. Natalie kept to the shadows; silver blades hidden behind her to not give her position away.

Natalie charged; footsteps utterly silent as she closed the distance. Vyrthur simply turned around and stuck his hand out, the Dragonborn suddenly completely immobile. She couldn’t even move her eyes. His hand lowered, sending Natalie’s to her knees by an unseen force, the tips of the swords resting on the ground. “You think I couldn’t hear you, girl?” He cocked his head as Natalie struggled against the spell holding her down, “You think your magicka is your source of strength, don’t you? Against most everyone else, certainly. But me… who do you think enchanted the caves to enter this valley? Your very strength is a weakness. The more powerful the magic user, the more this drain affects them. But you… you are so powerful I can control the very muscles in your body. Use your magicka to make you kneel before me. Once I’m done with your little friend here, all it will take it one little stab in the heart, and poof… you’re gone.”

“Enough, Vyrthur! Give us the bow!” Serana’s voice rang out.

Vyrthur turned to her, pure rage consuming his eyes, “How dare you order me! I was the Arch-Curate of Auri-El, girl. I had the ears of a god!”

“Until the ‘Betrayed’ corrupted you. Yes, yes. We’ve heard this sad story.”

Vyrthur scoffed at her words, “Gelebor and his kind are easily manipulated fools. Look into my eyes, girl. You tell me what I am.”

His eyes flashed briefly red, Serana’s mouth falling open in shock, “You’re… you’re a vampire?! But Auriel should have protected you…”

“PROTECTED ME?! The moment I was infected by one of my own Initiates, Auri-El turned his back on me! I swore I’d have my revenge, no matter the cost!”

Serana stared at him in disbelief, “You want to take revenge… on a god?”

“AND YOU WILL NOT BE THE ONE TO STOP ME!” Vyrthur summoned two ethereal swords into his grip, sprinting at Serana. She barely had time to summon one of her own and bring her dagger up to block, the strength of his blow sending her sliding back a step.

They sprung apart; furious expressions etched into both their faces. The screech of the magical blades echoed in the temple, every blow with force enough to shatter the bones of their opponent if they both hadn’t been vampires. Vyrthur’s assault was too rapid for Serana to even try to use any magic, too focused on their blades dancing with each other to do anything else.

Natalie struggled against the magic holding her, able to do nothing but watch as the two ancient vampires battled it out. She realised how the Arch-Curate’s spell worked. It wasn’t his magic holding her frozen. It was her own. Her own power twisted to trap her. It felt like all of it had been pulled away from where she normally accessed it, forcing it out into her muscles. Even with her vampiric strength, it wasn’t enough to move. Her magical potential was far too great for simple physical strength to break. Her tattoos had even assisted Vyrthur, setting out exact pathways along her body to conduct the energy through and hold her fast.

“AURI-EL HIMSELF MAY HAVE BEEN BEYOND MY REACH, BUT HIS INFLUENCE ON OUR WORLD WASN’T!” Vyrthur broke through Serana’s guard, dropping the summoned blades and grabbing her shoulders, tossing her to the edge of the balcony. A squeal of pain erupted from her lips as she collided with the edge stone bannister, blood spattering the ground as she coughed. Two more blades were instantaneously in his hands, preparing to finish her off. “ALL I NEEDED WAS THE BLOOD OF A VAMPIRE AND HIS OWN WEAPON, AURIEL’S BOW!”

Both women’s attention snapped to his words. Serana looked dumbstruck, realising implications, “The blood of a vampire… Auriel’s Bow… It… it was you? You created that prophecy?”

Vyrthur hissed at Serana as she managed to get to her feet, “A prophecy that lacked a single, final ingredient… the blood of a pure vampire. The blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour.” He grinned evilly, “And Lord Molag Bal has delivered! Two of you! I will finally get my revenge.”

Something snapped within Natalie at his words. The entire temple began to vibrate, a great tremor shaking it to its foundations. Serana and Vyrthur looked around in bewilderment, attempting to locate the source. Their eyes snapped to Natalie as she painstakingly rose her head to meet Vyrthur’s gaze. “YOU…” Vyrthur recast the spell, a look of pain crossing Natalie’s face. A vein popped out of her forehead as she used all of her might to continue to resist the spell. A red barrier was visible surrounding her body, becoming brighter the more Natalie attempted to move. The tremors became even stronger, cracks in the floor around her forming. She managed to shift a leg under her, entire body trembling with the effort.

“This… this isn’t possible!” Vyrthur cast the spell again and again, attempting to restrain Natalie’s overflowing power.

Natalie didn’t care. There were so few times in her life she’d felt this sort of rage. Her fury was enough, giving her the power boost to do what needed to be done. She continued to push against the barrier, stretching it further. Her leg muscles pushed with everything she had, managing to get both feet under her. The spell finally couldn’t take it. The barrier shattered, Natalie snapping to her full height. Her eyes burned with vampiric fury, every rune crackling with red electricity. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!” Every slow, deliberate step she took shattered the stone beneath her, waves of her power buffeting both Serana and Vyrthur. Serana didn’t think she’d ever seen Natalie this angry. Even after leaving the Dawnguard and dealing with Isran; this fury was new. Overwhelming in its intensity. “YOU TORE SERANA’S FAMILY APART FOR REVENGE?! YOU CAUSED ALL OF THOSE PEOPLE TO DIE?!”

Vyrthur continued to cast the spell over and over, the red barrier reappearing repeatedly. With every step, Natalie devastated the spell’s very substance. “How are you doing this?! Your power should keep you restrained!” For the first time in thousands of years, Vyrthur felt fear. All-consuming fear of the vampire in front of him, advancing closer by the second. And there was nothing he could do to stop her.

“I AM THE DRAGONBORN!” Natalie roared, fire spilling from her throat and heating the stone above her enough to make it glow, “THE MOST POWERFUL BEING IN TAMRIEL! YOU WANT REVENGE ON A GOD?! HOW ABOUT YOU START WITH ME?!”

Natalie rushed forward with blinding speed, bringing her full might to bear. Vyrthur barely had time to bring his summoned blades up to block the attack, the force almost breaking the bones of his arms. Natalie rained down a flurry of blows, almost every single one too fast for Vyrthur. He was soon covered in smouldering cuts, smoke rising from his skin. The Snow Elven white of his eyes disappeared, blood red replacing it as he used everything in his arsenal to defend against Natalie’s wrath. A savage kick to Vyrthur’s chest sent him stumbling backwards.

Vyrthur tried to run away, but found Serana blocking his path. He tried to back away from her, only to realise Natalie was on the other side. He collapsed to his knees before Natalie, resigned to his final defeat.

Serana gently took the swords from Natalie, placing one on either side of Vyrthur’s neck. “You were waiting… all this time… for someone with our blood to come along. Too bad for you, we both intend on keeping it.”

The swords crossed with a screech. Vyrthur’s head tumbled to the ground, the smell of burnt flesh filling the air as the swords’ enchantment cauterised the slice. His headless corpse clattered to the ground.

Serana turned back to Natalie, staring into the elf’s eyes. Her rage had not abated a single iota, still burning through as a deep red glow. Serana slid the swords back into their scabbards, never breaking her eye contact with Natalie. Serana trembled at the knowledge that she had just killed the cause for her entire life’s destruction. The thing that had torn her family apart. The thing that had sent her father so far into madness, he was willing to kill his own daughter to achieve it. Serana stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Natalie and resting her forehead on her shoulder. Tears filled her eyes as the current situation overwhelmed her.

Serana’s sudden actions broke through Natalie’s anger. The rampant power running through her retreated back inside, light from her tattoos fading and her eyes returning to their natural forest green. Her arms raised up, pulling Serana closer. Her right hand held the back of Serana’s head, her gauntlet grabbing a fistful of Serana’s tunic. They stood for several moments, oblivious to everything around them.

The sound of the mirror rising and the portal opening didn’t disturb them. At the centre of the balcony, Gelebor stepped out of the portal, his brother’s death being the final catalyst for the wayshrine within the Inner Sanctum to open. Natalie’s white tiger stalked up the stairs, eyeing this man in the white armour. He was so similar to the body on the floor. They almost looked the same. Natalie had killed that man, so this one must be evil too. He began to run, picking up speed.

Natalie sent a small look at the cat, stopping him in his tracks. She shook her head slightly, the tiger sitting down on its haunches and waiting. The two women broke apart, turning to look at Gelebor as he examined the corpse of his brother.

“So, the deed has been done.” A look of relief combined with regret washed over Gelebor’s face, “The restoration of this wayshrine means that Vyrthur is dead and the Betrayed no longer have control over him.”

Natalie spoke quietly, “The Betrayed weren’t to blame.”

The Paladin raised his eyebrows in surprise, “What? What are you talking about?”

She sighed, “He was a vampire. He controlled them.”

Gelebor stared at Natalie in shock, trying to process the new information, “A vampire? I see… that would explain much.” A small smile crept onto his face, “Deep inside, it brings me great joy that the Betrayed weren’t to blame for what happened here.”

“Why?”

“Because that means there’s still hope that they might one day shed their hatred and learn to believe in Auri-El once again. It’s been a long time since I felt that way and it’s been long overdue. My thanks, to both of you.”

Natalie nodded solemnly, “You’re welcome.”

“You’ve risked everything to get Auri-El’s Bow, and in return, you’ve restored the Chantry.” He paused weighing up the two women in front of him, “But… I can not give it to you.”

“Excuse me?” Natalie’s anger began to rise once more, red starting to spread from the edges of her eyes.

“Not without first asking you to promise me something.” Natalie’s rage retreated slightly, preparing to fight Gelebor if that’s what it came to. “I am aware that you are both vampires.” They began to protest before Gelebor raised his hand, “I am aware of the prophecy that you are here for, and I just learned as you did that my brother was responsible for it. I must ask that you promise to not use Auri-El’s Bow in the corrupted manner Vyrthur spoke of.”

Natalie and Serana looked at each other, confused as to why Gelebor could even consider the possibility they would use the bow to block out the sun. They spoke together nonetheless, “We promise.”

Gelebor nodded, “Very well.” He waved his hand; a small spell flowing through the air, causing a dais to rise up from near the edge of the balcony. Resting within, a resplendent shimmering white bow with matching arrows and quiver. A swell of power buffeted the balcony, pulsing out from the bow. The last living Snow Elf retrieved the bow and quiver, holding them with intense reverence. “Its craftmanship has no equal anywhere within Tamriel and possibly beyond. The bow was said to be carried by Auri-El himself into battle against the forces of Lorkhan in ancient times.”

He held them out for Natalie to take. She stared at them for a moment. It felt wrong to take them with a Daedric artefact. She was worried the cursed nature of her gauntlet could corrupt the bow with no intention of doing it. She slowly raised her hand, sharp metal digits wrapping around the grip. At first, nothing happened. The moment Gelebor ceased touching the bow itself, Natalie had to grit her teeth.

White energy streamed up Natalie’s arm, entwining itself through the metal spikes of her gauntlet and rushing up her arm. She groaned at the holy radiance of the bow. She could feel the gauntlet fighting the power as well as her own vampiric soul. She focused down, forcing her body to accept the handling of the bow itself. All at once, the streams of energy retreated into the bow, its whole length glowing with barely restrained power.

“You were truly chosen by Auri-El.” Gelebor handed the quiver to Natalie, quickly strapped over her back next to her other one. “It is said only the Chosen of Auri-El can wield the bow at its true potential. In other words, only a Dragonborn.”

“Good that you found one then.” Natalie smiled, shifting her dragonbone bow to accommodate Auriel’s Bow over her back.

“Indeed.” Gelebor waved his hand, a portal opening behind him, “This will take you back to the entrance of Darkfall Cave. I wish you luck on your mission.”

He began to walk away before Natalie called out, “Can I ask you something Gelebor?” He turned and nodded, gesturing for her to continue. Natalie pulled both silver blades out of their scabbards, holding them out in front of her. His eyes widened at the sight of them. “Your brother called these the Twin Swords of Auriel.”

“They were the ceremonial weapons of the Arch-Curate. Few outside of myself and Vyrthur knew their true strength. They were specifically created by Auriel to combat the forces of darkness he foresaw. Where did you get them?”

“From a Redguard. But Vyrthur said he’d cast them out. Why would he do that?”

Gelebor pondered the question for a moment. “Perhaps he believed he was no longer worthy of them. If what you say is true, and he was a vampire, then these blades were even more deadly to him, a risk he could not take. Even in his madness, he knew what he was doing by casting them out.” The Snow Elf disappeared down the steps, making his way into the temple he had not seen in centuries.

Natalie sheathed the swords and turned towards the portal. She patted her thigh, tiger dutifully padding up closer to her. She squatted down, ruffling the fur between his ears. “Did you hunt a big stag?” The tiger’s face fell, looking to the ground. “You just followed me, didn’t you?” He gave a grunt of confirmation, “Aw, don’t be sad. Tell you what. You want to come with me?” The great cat looked up with hope in his eyes. “Come kill some vampires for me?” He responded with a long lick up the side of her face. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She joined Serana by the portal, tiger following to stand next to them. “Ready?”

“Got the crystal for my arm?”

Serana held it up, “I’ll go through first, set it up, you come through a few seconds later.” She strode into the blinding light, disappearing from Natalie’s sight.

Natalie pushed on the back of her tiger’s head, “Go through boy, I’ll only be a second.”

Serana emerged from the other side of the portal, finding herself exactly where Gelebor had promised. She was only a few feet away from where they had left Shadowmere. She spun the crystal on a flat piece of earth, green lightning flaring to life as the enchantment circle sprung into existence. Through the portal, the tiger leapt out, instantly turning and waiting for Natalie to come through.

The elf stepped through, the pain shooting up her arm. Serana grabbed her, forcing her gauntlet onto the circle and casting the enchantment. Natalie breathed out hard as she lay on the ground. She looked up at Serana with a smile, “Learned how to do it then?”

Serana returned the smile, “I’ve seen you do it twice, figured it out.”

Natalie sat up, “Thank you.” She flexed the gauntlet, checking for any mistakes Serana may have made in the spell. To her surprise, there was not a single one. Natalie herself usually made at least one. “You might actually be better at this than me.”

Serana laughed, “Hopefully we don’t have to test that by going through more portals.” Natalie joined in for a moment before they both turned serious. “It’s nearly over, isn’t it?”

Natalie avoided looking at her, “Yes.”

Serana swallowed, “Nearly time to face him.”

Natalie wrapped her arm around Serana’s shoulders, “And we’ll do it together. Whatever it takes.”

“Thank you, Natalie. For everything.”

“It’s no big deal. Anyone would’ve done the same.”

A small chuckle escaped Serana’s lips, “Anyone? Anyone would’ve released an ancient vampire from her prison? Anyone would’ve helped said vampire find three Elder Scrolls? Anyone would’ve willingly made themselves a vampire just to help? Anyone would’ve read the scrolls and nearly turn blind in the process?”

Natalie grinned sheepishly, “Well… maybe not anyone then.”

They both rose up, turning to the north. Natalie whistled for Shadowmere, the great black mare coming out of nowhere. The Daedric horse looked at the tiger, unsure of this new animal near her master. The tiger bared his teeth, a growl rising from deep within his chest. Natalie stepped between them. “You two are going to play nice. Okay?”

Both animals seemed to understand, Shadowmere giving a snort of annoyance and the tiger growling its acceptance of the situation.

Instead of hoisting herself into the saddle, Natalie retrieved a piece of parchment from the saddlebags, scrawling a quick note and tying it to Shadowmere’s reins. Whispered instructions in the horse’s ear told her where to go. Natalie turned back to the tiger, “You have to go with Shadowmere, okay boy?” He bumped his massive head into Natalie’s side, “Don’t worry, we’ll see each other again soon. I just need you to do something for me, okay?” Natalie carefully considered the cat, “In fact, I think I can help you.”

Her gauntlet nestled between his ears, pushing through to touch his skin with all of her palm. Natalie closed her eyes, breathing evenly and summoning what power she needed for this particular act. She pushed down harder, sending power flowing through her gauntlet and into the tiger’s body. He bared his teeth as energy cascaded through his system, a pained growl escaping from his throat.

“Natalie what are you doing?!” Serana’s shocked outcry was only met with Natalie’s other hand coming up to tell her to let her finish.

With one final rush of power, Natalie lifted her gauntlet off of her feline companion. The tiger was slightly crouched, his breathing matching Natalie’s, deep and slow. When he opened his eyes and rose up, a glow as white as his fur illuminated their surroundings.

“How did you do that?” Serana looked on in awe, feeling the magical power now coming from the sabre-toothed tiger.

“Same thing that was done to Shadowmere. Only difference is, Shadowmere’s was done by a Daedric Prince. Our feline friend here, done by me.” Natalie crouched down in front of the pure white tiger, “Now, you follow Shadowmere, and I’ll see you in a few days, okay?” The tiger bumped his forehead against Natalie’s and strode to stand next to Shadowmere. “Go on, run as fast as you can.”

The two animals turned and sprinted at an equal speed away from them. Within moments, they were both out of the two vampire’s sights, thundering across the landscape towards their destination.

“Where are they going?” Serana narrowed her eyes at Natalie.

She only responded with a wide grin, “Well, we’re going to need backup. What better fighting force against vampires than the Dawnguard?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	16. The Final Battle

**Turdas, 9:40am, 13 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Dayspring Canyon Entrance**

 

After Natalie and Serana had left the last time, Torbald had ordered proper defenses built at the entrance to the canyon. The Dawnguard had built a stone wall with a thick timber gate, blocking any passage through to the fort proper. He had hoped that this would deter any would be attackers, or at least slow them down enough to give the fortress’ army to mobilise.

Being assigned to the gate was one of the more hated tasks of any Dawnguard soldier. They barely had any foot traffic, any that they did was turned away unless it was supplies or any recruits wishing to join the cause. Every soldier said it was the most boring assignment, that cleaning out the latrines was better. However, none complained, Torbald’s leadership having given them hope they could win this fight. His youth and optimism had inspired more loyalty than Isran’s age and fatalistic worldview ever could.

Like most other days, there hadn’t been a single sighting of anything. No new recruits and no supplies. The four guards stationed at the gate were almost asleep, leaning on their spears as they stared out onto the road.

A sound echoed toward them. All four stood, trying to see what it could be. Something was coming closer, the noise getting louder by the second. Horse’s hooves and the thundering footsteps of something else could be heard. All four troops stood at attention, trying to prepare for whatever was approaching.

They saw a blur of white and black racing toward the gate. The closer the blurs got, the louder the sound. Before the soldiers could react and prepare for the encroaching shapes, the gate exploded. The force of the hit destabilised the entire wall, large cracks running throughout it. By the time they got down from it, only splinters and a few pieces of steel reinforcement were left. They all looked at each other with the same grim expression. Torbald was going to be pissed.

The blurs passed every checkpoint in a similar fashion, leaving dazed Dawnguard troops in their wakes. The outer defences of the fortress were simply leapt over, posing absolutely no threat to them whatsoever. The two shapes made it all the way to Fort Dawnguard, sliding to a stop short of the stone walkway to the great front doors. The huge white tiger announced their presence, his roar shaking the very earth the troops around him stood on. Every soldier knew the horse that stood next to him, the great midnight black mare of the Dragonborn. This cat was new, just as menacing, if not more.

The guards at the front door jumped back in fright, eyeing the horse with glowing red eyes, and the tiger with glowing white. One quickly slipped inside the fort, sprinting through the halls to find their leader. He found Torbald already on his way, having heard the deafening roar of the intruder.

Torbald slammed open the doors, taking in the sight in front of him. Dawnguard soldiers were arrayed in a semi-circle, surrounding Shadowmere and the tiger. Both animals stared at him, Shadowmere recognising him instantly and stood down. On the other hand, the tiger eyed him suspiciously, baring his teeth and growling. Torbald walked forward, making his way closer to the enchanted animals.

Despite his appearance, the tiger made Torbald feel calmer, the white glow of his eyes reminding him heavily of Natalie. He got within two metres of the cat, squatting down and holding out his hand. His troops began to protest but raising his other hand told them to back down. The tiger’s growl became louder, locking his gaze onto Torbald’s.

The tiger stalked closer, maintaining eye contact as his head rose to sniff at the hand. The smell was foreign, yet familiar. This creature smelled like every single other one around him, but there was something off about it. The moment he realised what it was, his eyes widened and lips folded back to cover his teeth. The growl stopped, and the tiger launched himself at Torbald, tackling him and licking his face.

Torbald struggled to push the tiger off of him, coming very close to injuring himself on one of its two huge front teeth. The beast eventually got the hint, retreating and standing next to Shadowmere. Torbald rapidly climbed back to his feet, straightening his armour and trying to maintain the dignity of the leadership he had worked so hard to achieve. He heard some snickering from the troops, a glare in their direction sending them back to silence.

“Back to your posts.” The look of disappointment was plain on every man’s face, “NOW!” Torbald’s barked orders were hurriedly followed. He rubbed his eyes with a free hand, sighing at the scene they would’ve just witnessed. He was certain this was Natalie’s tiger. How she had befriended this immense creature was a question for another day. Torbald walked to Shadowmere’s head, stroking her long nose, “Where’s Natalie girl?” The mare whinnied, turning her head to display the roll of parchment tied to the reins.

Torbald reached for it, unfurling it and reading the flowing script.

_Torbald,_

_The time has come. I’ve retrieved Auriel’s Bow with Serana and we’re making our way towards her family’s castle. I need the Dawnguard. I need you. Assemble every available troop you have, and any forces you can muster on the way._

_In Shadowmere’s saddle bags, you will find a map with the location of a small dock we will launch from to reach the island. I will source a ship or two to get us to there. Meet me there as soon as you can._

_I’ll be waiting._

_Natalie._

_P.S. Please see if you can get the Dawnguard’s smiths to make some armour for my new friend. Similar to the trolls’ maybe?_

_P.P.S. And don’t worry, he won’t attack any of the men._

_P.P.P.S. I hope._

Torbald shook his head, eyeing the tiger staring at him. The magical energy coming off him was strong enough for even Torbald to feel. “Come on then, we’ll need to measure you.” The tiger followed without question as Torbald strode through the outer defences towards the forge. One of the blacksmith apprentices jumped at the sight, dropping the half-finished sword he had been quenching.

The head blacksmith strode out, not even sparing a glance at the enchanted tiger, “Sir!” His arm shot up in a salute, “Do you need something?”

“I do. Well, it’s not for me.” He rested his hand on the tiger’s head, the thick fur almost completely swallowing it, “The Dragonborn has requested armour made for her friend here.”

The man swallowed, “For the tiger, sir?”

“Indeed. Make it as strong as you can. I have a feeling the Dragonborn is quite attached to him.” Torbald walked away a few steps before turning back, “Oh, and I need it done as soon as possible. We leave tomorrow.” Without another word, Torbald was gone, disappearing towards the fortress. The blacksmith gave a weak smile to the cat, sincerely hoping he would cooperate with his measurements. He only bared his teeth in response, an attempt at a smile that came off completely wrong.

Torbald came to the fortress, mind racing with all the preparations he had to make in very little time. The castle was on an island, so boats would be necessary, but where would Natalie even get them? Unless they made hundreds of trips back and forth, they would need something larger. She may even have to steal one.

He was snapped from his thoughts by several soldiers standing before him. “Assemble the men.”

“All of them sir?”

“Every last one.” Torbald moved behind the table at the end of the great hall within the fort, waiting for them. Within minutes, it was packed, hundreds of men and women crowding the hall. They fell silent as their leader straightened up, trying to make himself look as commanding as possible. “Dawnguard. It is time. The final battle is upon us. The Dragonborn has retrieved the last piece of the puzzle, she has called us to arms and we shall respond. We will kill every last thing that gets in our way. This battle will be glorious. We will be remembered as the heroes who didn’t run. We will be the heroes who fought back the darkness!” He rose one fist into the air, “WHO’S WITH ME?!”

The response was deafening, “FOR THE DAWNGUARD!”

Torbald’s short speech sent the army into a frenzy, cheering and rapidly leaving the hall to spend the day getting everything ready to leave. Torbald stood for a moment, hands on the table, Natalie’s letter scrunched up in his fist. His next move would either be brilliant, or incredibly stupid. It was time to find out which one it was. “You two.” He called to two stragglers at the back of the crowd. “Get your armour and weapons and come back here.” They nodded, pushing through the crowd and returning soon after. “Follow me.”

The three men descended into the bowels of the fortress, past the unused levels and all the way to the bottom. A small prison with only a dozen cells. Only a single one of them was occupied. A torch threw dim light into the stone quarters, silhouetting the figure curled up in the corner.

“Isran.”

The prisoner’s head rose up, staring at the man on the other side of the wrought iron bars. Torbald was in full armour, a heavy set of plate emblazoned with the Dawnguard sigil. “Ah… so the illustrious, traitorous leader of the Dawnguard comes to see little old me.”

“You put yourself in here and you know it. Your leadership would’ve gotten us all killed.”

“Maybe so… but at least it would’ve been an honourable death.” Isran chuckled, “Unlike you, allying with that filthy monster and that thing you call a grandmother.” Torbald almost stepped slightly back in shock, “Oh! Yes, I know who you are. The Dragonborn’s grandson… kind of a letdown if I’m being honest.”

“Insults will get you nowhere, Isran. I’ve half a mind just to execute you and be done with it.” Torbald’s threat quieted Isran’s loud mouth. “However… we need every soldier for the coming fight.”

“You’re going to let me out and arm me? Are you stupid?”

“Maybe.” Torbald pondered his decision for an instant, resolve forming over his features almost straight away, “But I don’t think you’d risk your possible freedom by attacking the Dawnguard. And attacking Natalie or Serana…” A small grin curled the corners of his mouth, “Good luck with that.”

Isran narrowed his eyes at the young man. He knew this would be the only possible chance he would get at freedom, even if he did have to fight in one last battle. “Fine.”

“Excellent.” Torbald pulled a key off his belt, unlocking the cell door and swinging it open. He made it to the bottom of the stairs before turning it back, “Oh, and Isran,” He looked over his shoulder, “Try anything to hurt our mission, and I’ll personally ensure you’re dead before you hit the ground.” With one last threat, Torbald was gone, leaving the other two Dawnguard soldiers to drag Isran from the cell and up the stairs.

Soldiers eyes widened as Isran was brought past them, quickly hushed by stern looks from Torbald. He watched them take him to the armoury, returning to his chambers to get his own supplies together. This struggle would finally end in one cataclysmic battle. He would get to see Natalie battle it out with her true power. This would be one for the history books.

 

* * *

 

**Middas, 8:30pm, 19 th of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Solitude Docks**

 

Finding ships to take boat loads of soldiers to Volkihar island proved far harder than Natalie had expected. Every captain of every vessel seemed to know exactly what was on that island. And despite Natalie’s assurances that all they would have to do is ferry soldiers there and back, none would take her up on the offer. No matter how much gold she offered, not a single one was willing.

Natalie stared after the last captain, tempted to run after him and threaten his life. Maybe violence would solve this problem. Or perhaps… “Don’t. I know what you’re thinking.” Serana’s whispered words pulled Natalie back to herself, “Making him your thrall will only bring attention to us. His crew already know he’s said no to your ridiculous amount of gold. A sudden change will be odd and they may just mutiny.”

The elf tightened her fists, the bag of coins held in her gauntlet creaking as the metal bent beneath her strength. She huffed, throwing her cloak outwards as she left the docks. Serana threw glances at some of the dockworkers who’d been staring. They quickly went about their business.

Serana jogged slightly to catch up, the two women making their way back up towards the city. They had been here for a day and a half, asked every captain they could find about taking them and the Dawnguard soldiers to Volkihar. They had nothing to show for it. To say Natalie was angry was an understatement.

The amount of gold Natalie had offered was ludicrous. How Natalie had accrued such wealth was another question. The moment they’d arrived in Solitude, Natalie had led them straight to a manor house she owned. In the basement was a vault, not dissimilar to her true home’s. The main difference being this one was packed to the roof with gold. She’d told Serana she was willing to spend all of it, if it meant getting themselves and the Dawnguard to Volkihar to stop her father.

Natalie stalked up to the main gates of Solitude, hurriedly opened by the two guards on duty. They had been in and out of this wall of stone so many times in the past day, with Natalie getting angrier every time, that the guards had quickly learned to just open it when they saw the two women coming.

“Natalie. Stop for a second.” The Dragonborn stopped in the middle of the street, some distance from the gate. Serana moved around to her front, lifting her chin with a finger, “It’s obvious we’re not going to get a boat by buying it.” A meaningful look made Natalie understand.

She swallowed, “I’d rather not steal one if we can avoid it.” She looked towards the palace of the Jarl, just visible over the buildings, “I’ve got one last idea before we do that.” Serana’s face creased with confusion, “I think it’s time we pay Jarl Elisif a visit.”

“The Jarl?” Serana stared at Natalie, “What is she going to able to do?”

Natalie grinned, “She owes me a favour. Time to cash in.”

They walked off toward the Blue Palace, its walls reflecting the moonlight onto their path. The guards at the gate almost moved to block their path before Natalie shot them a glare and flashed the small seal that signified her as a Thane of the hold. They hurriedly opened the gate, recognising both the seal and its bearer. Both men knew not to get on Natalie’s bad side.

The palace was quiet at this time of night. Any citizens with petitions for the Jarl had long since left, only a few guards and servants still scurried through the halls. Natalie’s steps were still somehow silent on the stone floors, with even the mass of weapons strapped to her not making a sound. Serana’s footfalls only made the smallest noises, but they seemed deafening in comparison to Natalie.

They came through the main entrance to the twin staircases leading to the Jarl’s throne. Natalie confidently strode up them, having come through this building dozens of times before. She ascended to their summit, finding herself face to face with an unfamiliar man, the only clue to his identity the badge attached to his breastplate. It indicated him as the Jarl’s housecarl and bodyguard. Elisif had changed bodyguards it seemed, though Natalie hadn’t been to the palace in more than twenty years, so anything was possible.

The man stared at Natalie, his gaze questioning her presence here. “I need to see the Jarl.” Natalie’s own gaze brokered no argument.

“About what?” His voice was gruff, speaking to years of experience of dealing with people only trying to stir up trouble for the Jarl.

Natalie narrowed her eyes. Her sigil was clearly displayed, so there should have been no questioning why she needed to see her, “That is between myself and her.”

“Her?” A hint of confusion crossed his face.

The elf rolled her eyes, “Yes. Jarl Elisif. Now if you would, I’m kind of in a hurry.”

“Jarl Elisif passed away fifteen years ago.” The guard stared at Natalie as though she was an idiot for not knowing.

“Ah. That actually makes sense.” Natalie shrugged apologetically at Serana, “Then please fetch whoever is the Jarl now.”

The Nord stood still for a moment before moving off behind the throne, disappearing into a doorway. Natalie sighed with relief; glad she wouldn’t have to break down any doors to see the Jarl. The bodyguard soon returned, a middle-aged man in fine clothing following him. The new Jarl settled himself into the throne, only looking at Natalie once he was comfortable.

“I have been told that you wish to see me, Thane who I do not know.” He spoke with the haughty air of authority that seemed unique to the Jarls of Skyrim, despite the enormous power imbalance skewed towards Natalie.

Natalie recognised the man as Elisif’s son, though the last time she had seen him was more than fifty years ago during Skyrim’s civil war. He had only been a young child at the time, so his memory likely did not span long enough to remember Natalie herself, despite the frequency with which she had visited the Blue Palace over those years.

Natalie took a step closer, “I need a ship, and you’re going to give it to me.”

The Jarl leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he considered Natalie’s demand, “And why would I give you a ship? What have you done for the Hold of Haafingar that makes you think you can order me to do something?”

Natalie laughed, the bellowing mirth echoing through the palace, “A better question is what haven’t I done?” She stepped even closer, the housecarl’s hand coming up to grip the hilt of his sword, “I am the Last Dragonborn. I saved this city from Alduin’s wrath. I ensured neither the Empire nor the Stormcloaks gained control of this city in the civil war. I personally saved your mother’s life many times over. I have done more for your hold than almost any other person in its entire history. I need this ship to save you all once more.”

He sat back in the throne, eyes never leaving Natalie’s, “While you service to the hold is clearly impeccable, you cannot give me an order. You are my Thane. I am your Jarl. That makes the only person who can give orders around here, me.”

The Dragonborn stared at the Jarl, amazed at the audacity of this man. Her wrath grew more intense with every passing second. They had failed to hire a ship at the docks. Stealing one was the last option and she would rather not have to. Her service to this hold should have been enough for such a simple request. She surged forward the last few steps, grabbing the Jarl by the scruff of his tunic and tossing him away from his throne. The housecarl drew his sword, charging as soon as his Jarl had hit the ground. Without looking, Natalie slapped the sword away, turning her head just slightly, “ _FUS_!” He was taken off his feet, colliding with the wall and sliding to the ground with a thud, knocked unconscious.

The Jarl struggled to get to his feet, a mixture of fear and anger on his face, “How dare you! I am your Jar-”

Natalie grabbed his throat with her gauntlet, lifting him off his feet, “Now you listen here you little shit. You are going to give me a ship, and you are going to give it to me tonight. I know you’ve heard the story of what Ulfric Stormcloak did to your father. Shouting your father apart was easy. But he had to study for years to achieve that kind of power. With barely a third of my full power, I knocked your bodyguard out with a single blow. I learnt that much in a single day.” She drew him closer, hissing in his face, “Imagine what I can do after fifty years.” Her grip relaxed, the man falling straight to the ground barely able to breathe. “I’ll be waiting at the docks. If you aren’t there with my ship in the next two hours, I will burn your city to the ground.” To prove her point, Natalie flicked her fingers, igniting every pot of flowers in the room and incinerating them to ashes in an instant.

The elf strode down the stairs and out of sight. Serana waited, staring at the gasping man on the ground. She crouched down, the Jarl recoiling away, “I’d suggest you do as you’re told little man. I’ve seen her angry. This isn’t even close.” She let her eyes flash red for a moment, the Jarl’s eyes widening at the sight. Serana stood back up, making her way to the top of the stairs, “Start moving, or I start feeding.”

The guards downstairs had heard the commotion and had begun mobilising to storm the throne room. They saw Natalie march down the stairs, moving to intercept her. Her hands suddenly ignited, the flames spreading up to engulf her arms. A simple glare, eyes filled with the fury of the Dragonborn, froze every man and woman where they stood. They didn't dare move a muscle till both women had long exited the palace, rushing the stairs to check on the Jarl.

They found the Jarl trying to catch his breath, seated on the floor with his housecarl unconscious in a heap near the side wall. “Sir! What happened?!”

The Nord coughed, a small amount of blood spattering his hand, “Ready my ship.”

“Are you going somewhere, sir?”

His voice turned commanding, the years of office taking over, “Are you deaf? Do as you’re told. Ready. My. Ship.”

The guards scrambled to obey his orders, two of them picking up the housecarl and carrying him with them down the stairs.

Natalie and Serana made their way through the city, Natalie not bothering to smother the flames on her arms. Every guard that made to intercept them was met with a small shake of Serana’s head, warning them not to come near. All but one obeyed, the bravest of the guard moving to stand in front of Natalie. He was significantly taller than the elf, towering over her small frame.

Natalie raised her head, staring into the guard’s eyes. “Move.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to cease the flames and come with me ma’am.”

The elf shook her arms, flames retreating into her skin. She grabbed Serana’s hand, looking back and nodding. She turned back to the guard, taking a step closer, “Make me.” With those two words they were gone, their vampiric speed launching them through the city streets and out the front gate. The guard was taken off his feet from the shockwave of their movement, landing with a yelp of pain. To his eyes, they had teleported away, the only indication they had even been there where the stone was cracked from the force.

They sprinted all the way to the docks, emerging at a normal walking speed from a small alley way, none of the workers packing up for the night any the wiser. Natalie led the way to the largest dock, seating herself at the end and dangling her legs over the edge. Serana joined her, watching the waves gently lap against the pier.

Serana broke the silence, “Will the ship be big enough for the entire Dawnguard?”

“If it’s anything like the ship Elisif had, easily. Maybe not in one trip, but maximum two.”

“My father isn’t exactly going to let us land an entire army on the island. He’s many things, but he’s not stupid. There will be some sort of resistance.”

Natalie grinned, “That’s why we’re going to hide the ship.”

Before Serana could respond, a ship rounded the corner of a rocky outcrop, making for the dock they were seated upon. It was covered in ornate metal carvings, depicting Solitude itself, and ending in an immodest depiction of a mermaid. Natalie rolled her eyes at this specific detail. This particular ship was clearly not meant as a war-ship. Natalie imagined it had barely seen an arrow let alone a full-fledged sea battle. It would still serve their purpose for ferrying their troops at least.

The ship came to rest in front of them, the small crew looking expectantly down at the two women. They were mostly members of the city guard from what Natalie could tell, some of them looking as though they might topple over at any point from their lack of experience on a sea-going vessel. Natalie climbed to her feet, gracefully leaping straight up and landing lightly on the deck. The guards stared at her stunned, the leap should have been impossible for anyone. They dared not question her, the Jarl having told them she was the Dragonborn and to obey her lest they wanted their city to burn.

Serana followed her with the same display of strength, earning the gaze of several of the men. Quick glances in their direction showed them the error of their ways, eyes quickly downcast from both vampires.

Natalie strode to the front of the ship just as the Jarl came onto the docks. His look of concern fell to shock as Natalie braced herself on the prow of the ship. She gripped the mermaid figure by the waist, pushing down hard with her feet to maintain her balance. With a tug, the golden statue broke free, snapped off from the supports that anchored it to the ship. She carried it over her head, striding to the edge over before tossing it onto the docks. It landed with a crash, shattering some of the planks into splinters and almost falling through to the water below.

“I need this thing to be a little bit more subtle. Naked golden mermaid doesn’t exactly scream subtlety.” Natalie’s smile was only met with stunned silence from the men assembled, including the Jarl. She turned to the crew, “Let’s get this show on the road. Turn north and go around the point.” The guards exchanged looks but did as they were told. Natalie returned her attention to the Jarl. “Thank you for the assistance, my lord.” She gave a sweeping bow, Serana almost failing to stifle a laugh.

The ship left the semi-damaged dock in its wake, travelling as fast as it could to the meeting point Natalie had set up between them and the Dawnguard.

 

* * *

 

**Fredas, 10:20pm, 21 st of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Western Coast of Skyrim**

 

Natalie heard the army coming long before she could see it. Hundreds of soldiers marched across the land to make it to them. She sat on the porch of the fisherman’s hut, running a rough stone down one of the Swords of Auriel. The stone did nothing, the finish on the blade far too tough for a simple rock to tarnish. The boat she’d come in on bobbed up and down at the end of the dock, the water barely deep enough to bring it in this close to the shore. None of the Jarl’s crew had disembarked, trying to keep their distance between themselves and Natalie. One of the men onboard had been in the Blue Palace when Natalie had left, he’d seen what she’d done to the Jarl and his housecarl.

Serana sat next to Natalie, keeping watch for the Dawnguard. She’d been able to sense Natalie’s impatience at getting this whole mess over with. She couldn’t deny she had the same feeling. All of this was about to end. At the end of this day, she would either have killed her father, or she’d be dead. There was no other possible outcome. To say she was unprepared for this was an understatement. Attempting to separate the man her father had been from the monster he had become was proving almost impossible. For the good of the world she would have to put aside her own feelings for the man.

The first column of soldiers became visible, exiting the mountain pass. Serana spied Shadowmere at its head, along with Natalie’s white tiger. She tapped the elf on the shoulder, drawing her attention. Natalie sheathed the sword and both stood to wait for them.

The Dawnguard soon began to surround the small fisherman’s cottage, the bustle of heavy armoured troops filling the air. Shadowmere made her way to Natalie immediately, earning an apple from Natalie’s bag and a stroke of her long nose. Natalie was so focused on Shadowmere, she only noticed the tiger when he whined. The elf looked down, finding the giant cat resplendent in midnight black armour.

“Well, look at you!” Natalie scratched the fur under his chin, “Don’t you look handsome!” The armour had been perfectly fit to the tiger’s size, and even had intricate designs inlaid in it. The metal covering the top part of his head had been fashioned into a dragon’s head. He purred deep in his chest at Natalie’s attention, eyes fluttering shut as he rolled onto his back. Natalie buried her hands in the thick fur on his belly, glad to see her letter had been received and listened to.

Torbald strode over to Natalie, coughing to get her attention. Natalie straightened up, her eyes sweeping up and down his newly armoured exterior. “I got your note.”

Natalie smiled, “That you did. I’m glad Isran saw sense to send you all.”

The young Nord scratched at his neck sheepishly, “Actually… I kind of maybe took the leadership of the Dawnguard off him.”

Laughter burst forth from the elf, “That’s amazing, wish I could have been there.” She walked forward, placing her hand on Torbald’s plated shoulder, “You deserve it. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Torbald looked out across the water at Volkihar island, his features turning serious, “What’s the plan?”

Natalie and Serana joined him, eyeing the castle almost hidden in fog, “We’ll attack at dawn. We need to get every soldier there by then. Hopefully we don’t have to make more than one trip.”

Torbald nodded, “Attacking at dawn. Advantage for us, but won’t that make you and Serana vulnerable?”

Serana answered, “Yes, but it’s an advantage we can’t pass up. It disadvantages almost my father’s entire force, whereas it only affects Natalie and myself here.”

Natalie began to walk away, making for the small rowing boat at the side of the dock, “Serana and I will go across first, take out any patrols. Make sure you’re ready to get everyone on that ship.”

“Wait, won’t they see us coming?” Torbald’s concern for his men’s safety came through in his voice.

Natalie only looked over her shoulder and smiled, “Trust me. When I give the signal, start sailing. They’ll never see us coming.” She removed Auriel’s bow from her shoulder, placing it gently alongside the quiver of arrows in the boat. She bent down, retrieving a long package wrapped in cloth. She offered it to Torbald, “Here, take this.”

Torbald unwrapped it, finding the ebony shortsword he’d seen Natalie wield so often. “I… I can’t take this!”

Natalie patted the two swords at her hips, “I don’t have three arms and Serana is better with a dagger. Please, take it. Use it.” He could only nod in response. Natalie and Serana climbed into the boat, settling themselves onto the wooden seats. “When I give the signal, start moving.”

 

* * *

 

**Fredas, 11:10pm, 21 st of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Island**

 

The two vampires rowed out to sea, making their way towards the island. The gentle lapping of the waves and the rhythm of the oars were the only sounds as they crossed the channel. Serana pulled Auriel’s bow into her lap, staring silently at the glowing white weapon. This bow would end a lifetime of pain, but it would also be responsible for the final destruction of her family.

Serana made no movement as they reached the island, the weapon across her legs absorbing all of her attention. Natalie pulled the oars in, throwing the small spool of rope around the dock’s post and tying the knot. Serana gave no resistance as Natalie helped her out of the boat and took the bow from her, soon strapped over the elf’s back. They stood together on the dock, Natalie studying their surroundings in the light of the moon while Serana concentrated on the wooden planks beneath them. To the Dragonborn’s surprise, Harkon had not stationed a single patrol on the island’s shore.

Natalie reached out, surprising Serana from her stupor as she took both her hands into her own. “You ready for this?”

Serana’s eyes remained downcast, unwilling to meet Natalie’s, “Ready to murder my father and save the world from his insanity?” She swallowed, searching through her mind for an answer, “How could I ever be ready for that?” She would never be ready for this. Killing half of the family she had left would never be something she could have prepared herself for.

Natalie couldn’t tear her gaze away from Serana’s face. The beautiful features she’d come to know over the past few months, creased with the pain and sorrow that she would never be able to understand. In the moment, Natalie came to a decision. She would offer Serana a choice. “Listen… you don’t have to do this with me. I know how hard it’s going to be for you. I can do this alone.”

Serana finally looked up into Natalie’s eyes, her own golden orbs widening with surprise. She found the sympathetic eyes of the Dragonborn staring back, the forest green just the same as when they had just met such a short time ago. “I… I have to do this Natalie. I have to look him in the eyes and know there’s nothing of my father left… I couldn’t live with myself not knowing.”

Natalie’s gaze faltered, dropping to their hands. “I… I know. I just…” She swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Sorry.”

Serana let the elf’s hands lower, raising her own to gently cup Natalie’s face. Their eyes met, saying the words they couldn’t. Serana leant forward, eyes flicking between Natalie’s eyes and her lips. They met in the middle; both of their eyes fluttering shut. Natalie’s hands were almost paralysed at her side, lost in the feeling of kissing the beautiful woman in front of her. Both women acted simultaneously, Natalie wrapping her arms around Serana’s waist while Serana’s arms moved forward to pull Natalie closer, pulling their bodies flush together, encircling her neck and deepening the kiss.

After several moments they parted, resting their foreheads against one another’s. Both women could feel the blush creeping across their cheeks.

Natalie managed to stutter, “That… that was…”

“Perfect.” Huge grins spread across both their faces, “Makes this battle worth fighting.” Serana finally had something she cared about more than trying to fix her family.

They settled together against the crumbling tower, out of sight of the castle proper. Natalie took Serana’s hand, threading their fingers together and leaning her head on the vampire princess’ shoulder. “After all this is over, what do you want to do?”

Serana considered the question carefully. “Honestly? I’ve given it almost no thought.” She smiled, “Maybe see how the rest of Tamriel has changed in my sleep?”

“Sounds good to me.”

They sat for the next few hours in silence, waiting for their destiny to arrive.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 5:20am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Western Coast of Skyrim**

 

Torbald stood at the prow of the ship, fidgeting with hilt of the ebony sword. The sword perfectly fit his hand as though it was made for him. It seemed longer than when he’d seen Natalie use it, as though she’d customised it just for him. For all he knew, she had. There was so much he didn’t know about his grandmother. What was master swordsmith among all the other skills she held?

Natalie’s white tiger sat next to him on its haunches, eyeing a specific point on the island. Torbald knew this cat was able to see Natalie even at this distance. Whatever she’d done to enchant the great beast had given him unnatural senses and an uncanny ability to always know where Natalie was. He had even led them through the mountains to find Natalie at the fisherman’s house, her map only helping them with a vague location.

Torbald had been standing in the same spot for hours, staring out at the island. Every soldier had filed onto the ship an hour ago. It was a tight squeeze, only just barely fitting the army he’d mustered onboard. He had to see the signal the moment it was launched and not a second after. He would not fail Natalie now. He would not fail Tamriel. He would make sure the Dawnguard fought in this battle and saved everyone, even if it meant sacrificing their lives to do it. He had talked to every man and woman under his charge. They all knew what was at stake and what it would take to make sure they won. Every single one was willing to make the sacrifice.

A light flared up in the distance, rising from the island into the early morning sky. A single point of gold. Torbald sprang into action. “GO! THERES THE SIGNAL!”

Crew members hurried about, unfurling the sail and putting out the oars. The rowing started, propelling the ship through the water. The wind was favourable, giving them even more speed as they approached the island. Torbald hoped they would be able to get close enough to disembark without having to ferry across in the small rowboats on the ship.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 5:20am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Island**

 

Natalie abruptly stood up, drawing Auriel’s Bow and an arrow. “It’s time.” She breathed in and out deeply, pulling the bow string as far back as she possible could. The arrow went flying, shining a beacon of golden light through the air. It landed almost halfway to the ship just visible through the fog. It immediately started moving, Natalie rapidly stowing the bow and nodding to Serana.

The two vampires stood side by side, summoning the magicka to cast the spell. They both thrust their hands forward, glowing with energy that seemed to shift in and out of existence with every passing moment. The spell passed over the water, eventually enveloping the ship. The vessel disappeared from view, hidden from both the castle and its inhabitants.

The spell was perfect, successfully hiding the ship until it was at the dock of the island. The tiger leapt from the ship before it was visible, appearing out of thin air and landing silently on the dock. He padded over to Natalie and Serana, shaking the water out of his fur that had accumulated during the sea voyage.

They let go of the magic, the ship springing into view. Soldiers began to file off, amassing in formation in front of the castle. It was too late for their enemy to mount a full defence. They would use that and the rising sun to their advantage. Natalie strode with Serana and Torbald to the front of their army.

Serana couldn’t tear her eyes from her once-upon-a-time home. The battle was finally truly here. It hadn’t seemed entirely real when she had arrived on the island just a few hours ago. Now, here she was, about to face the danger.

Natalie faced the assembled army, watching each of their eyes on her. She saw that some of them still resented her, likely for the fact she was a vampire and they weren’t allowed to kill her.

Natalie’s voice boomed out over the crowd, “Some of you would rather not be here, fighting alongside me. I understand you believe I have betrayed you to the very thing I promised to destroy.” She glanced at Torbald, her grandson giving an encouraging nod, “I promise you. If there was any other way, I would have taken it. But I ask that you put aside your feelings towards me. Focus your anger on the real enemy.” She pointed at the castle, “Inside there is an enemy none of us, not even me, can hope to face alone. Only working together will we succeed. WHO WILL STAND WITH ME AGAINST THE DARKNESS?! WILL YOU FIGHT WITH ME AND SAVE TAMRIEL FROM THIS MENACE?!”

The roar almost deafened all present. The entire army drew their weapons as one, the rasp of steel filling the air with its clamour. Natalie turned back to face the castle just as the first rays of sunshine broke over the walls. It illuminated their entire force, giving away their position if the noise they’d made hadn’t. She lifted the dragon priest mask from her belt, running her gauntlet over the otherworldly black material. She fastened it over her face, any advantage she could have, she would take.

Natalie rolled her neck out, an audible crack as she finished. Both fists clenched, bringing her arms into tight to her sides. Her eyes fell shut, concentrating on bringing out the maximum amount of magical power she could possibly conjure. Every tattoo flickered to life as her magic was brought to the forefront. Blue and red lightning sparked between them, soon striking the ground further and further away from her. Natalie maintained control of it, every bolt avoiding hitting any of her allies.

“ ** _MUL QAH DIIV!_** ” Natalie’s shout surrounded her, an ethereal set of armour covering her body. She drew both swords, igniting their entire length with white flames. “ **HARKON! COME AND FACE US, COWARD!** ”

Natalie’s threat made the ground shake, the army beginning its march forward with Natalie at its head. The great front doors of the castle opened, vampires and thralls streaming out. They had at least the same number as the Dawnguard, though it seemed not nearly the same discipline. They spread out in small clumps, each group of thralls surrounding their individual master. There was no cohesion. Natalie smiled. Breaking through to their true target would be easy.

“ **DAWNGUARD!** ” Natalie’s voice thundered across the battlefield, unnaturally loud. A final battle cry from the Last Dragonborn wreathed her entire body in flames, the aura extending beyond her body for almost a foot, “ **CHARGE!** ”

A battle roar went up from the assembled troops, their willingness to follow Natalie unquestionable. The battle started in earnest, hundreds of soldiers rushing at one another and meeting in bloody carnage. Natalie and Serana used all of their vampiric speed to break ahead of the Dawnguard’s forces, plunging themselves headlong into the monstrous enemy. Natalie’s swords were a blur even to the other vampires, the silver singing as it cut through the air and their bodies. Any enemy who got too close was burned by her aura, so many of them stumbling away from her charred and screaming. The lightning streaming off her had a mind of its own, electrocuting enemies across the entire battlefield. Any Dawnguard who was having trouble with their opponent was almost immediately assisted.

Natalie fought off two vampires simultaneously, besting their swordsmanship at every turn. Every swing of her sword either parried one of theirs or sliced their flesh. With a small flick of her gauntlet’s sword, she disarmed one, tossing her silver sword into the air. She lashed out with a kick to the chest of the vampire to her right, taking him from his feet and propelling him backwards several metres. An inferno built up in her gauntlet, inches from the face of the disarmed enemy. She released, an intense torrent of fire bathing his entire head. He screamed, soon falling silent as his skin melted along with the flesh beneath it. Just as the bone showed, his ally came back swinging. Natalie grabbed the burnt vampires’ shoulders, using them as purchase to push herself into a handstand and flip over his head, tossing his body in the path of the sword swing. The sword opened his stomach to the air, blood spraying as the force of the blade spun the body. Natalie used the momentary distraction to rush in and sever both the vampire’s arms before decapitating him. The silver sword fell back down into her waiting hand, the whole exchange only lasting a few seconds. Dawnguard soldiers had been watching, all they’d been able to see a blur as the three vampires fought before Natalie suddenly emerged victorious.

Natalie’s tiger stayed in close proximity to her, using its powerful jaws to kill any stragglers that got away from his master. His magically enhanced strength allowed him to toss any enemy in his jaws into others, his paws easily batted aside anything that tried to attack him. His snow-white fur was soon matted with blood, none of it his own. The sanguine liquid dripped from his maw, sending him into a frenzy in the middle of the battle. Any attack that did get through his speed and ferocity was stopped completely by the armour the Dawnguard had fashioned for him. Natalie’s enchantment made him able to sense if someone was friend or foe instantaneously. Some Dawnguard troops stumbled back when he leapt at the enemy they were currently fighting, ripping them limb from limb in an instant. The air filled with the scent of the blood of his enemies, the tiger taking huge bites of them and swallowing his reward for helping. His glowing white eyes visible through it all, recognisable to the Dawnguard as a friend. He soon had his own small squad of soldiers, assisting him in the battle. They made short work of every enemy, the tiger tossing the enemies and the soldiers murdering them in mid-air.

Serana could almost not believe what she was seeing. The power that Natalie displayed was unlike anything she’d seen from the elf before. She found herself transfixed by the raw strength coming from her in waves, even as the vampire princess despatched her own enemies with extreme precision. Her dagger flashed out without her looking where she was stabbing, still able to defeat other vampires and their thralls even with her attention divided. Her own magic struck any enemy stupid enough to challenge her. She was soon surrounded by corpses impaled to the ground by ice lances and the smouldering ruins she left of others. It was obvious her father had not sent out the strongest of his forces. Perhaps the large bulk of them, but she knew that the most powerful vampires still lie in wait for them to find.

Torbald made it to the first group of vampires and thralls long before any other member of the Dawnguard. The ebony blade in his hand made short work of any being he set his mind on. His sword arm and shield were soon slick with blood, the liquid sinking into the blade as though it was feeding it. His shield blocked bone-shattering blows from the vampires, Torbald using everything he’d learned from Natalie to defeat the enemies with far more physical strength than himself. The thralls were slaughtered easily, their minds not entirely there to defend against the well-trained soldiers of the Dawnguard. Torbald joined Natalie’s tiger in the fight, grandson and companion of the Dragonborn working in perfect synchronisation. No enemy could stand up to their combined wrath.

Natalie saw an opening, calling out across the battlefield through a momentary lull in the fighting, “ **SERANA!** ” She pointed her sword to the undefended bridge leading to the great doors of Volkihar castle. Both women quickly killed every enemy near them, Natalie spinning on the spot to decapitate the thralls near her. They sprinted towards the bridge, slaughtering anything that got in their way. Both sheathed their weapons, magic burning in their fists. Massive leaps took them sailing over the last line of defending vampires. Combining their magic in the air, a monstrous fireball formed above their heads, eclipsing the early-morning sun with its radiance. Both women roared, bringing their arms down as they hit the ground. The flames sped towards the front doors of the castle. The strongest ward they could summon appeared around them as they thrust their arms forward, shielding them with a thick golden barrier.

The fireball collided with the wooden door, immediately detonating, blasting apart the surrounding stonework and leaving a huge hole in the front of the castle. Natalie and Serana grit their teeth as the blast struck their ward, pushing them back several feet. Any vampire near the bridge was incinerated, blackening the ground near the castles itself.

The moment the flames dissipated, the two invading vampires charged, rushing through the smoking ruin of the entrance. Torbald had watched the whole thing, astonished at the power they’d just displayed. Amazingly, no Dawnguard had even been injured in the explosion.

No other soldier was close enough to assist the two women. There were still hundreds of vampires and thralls outside to deal with and none of them had the necessary skill or power to break through their lines as Natalie and Serana had. They would have to face this last trial alone.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 6:30am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Castle Volkihar**

 

Natalie and Serana sprinted through the thick smoke and into the castle proper. Natalie drew Auriel’s Bow into her hand, the weapon sending pure holy power pulsing through her arm. She pulled an arrow out, charging it with lightning until its entire length had crackling electricity shooting up and down it. From her previous visit, she knew they were coming up to a small balcony even if it was currently hidden by smoke. She leapt forward, sailing through the smoke and over the small balustrade, Serana following soon after, pushing off the stone and high into the air.

Natalie fired the arrow into the centre of the room, startling some of the occupants. The arrow detonated as it hit the ground, inundating anything near it with lightning. Several vampires and thralls were slain by the magic, others further away able to avoid or block the energy. Any defences they had set up within the main hall were in disarray from Natalie’s surprise attack.

Serana ran ahead of where Natalie had landed, plunging herself directly into the crowd of defenders. Natalie stayed where she was, firing arrows with extreme precision, every shot burying itself within an eye or directly through the victim’s heart. Both women’s eyes had turned blood red, neither seeing any sense in wasting energy on twisting their appearance to appease the masses.

Serana’s hands seemed to be permanently glowing with magic, ice spears springing into existence the instant the last one had left her hand. Her dagger found its way into every sensitive spot on her enemies, splashing herself and the floor slick with blood as she slaughtered more and more of her father’s troops. Every hallway coming off the main hall provided a steady influx of adversaries, more thralls than vampires, but their sheer numbers made it difficult for Serana to gain the upper hand. She was soon surrounded by corpses, even fighting atop them when there was almost no floor left to stand on.

Natalie fired arrow after arrow into the crowd, stemming the flow of them getting close to Serana as best she could. Her arms were a blur, long having switched to summoning arrows instead of using the ones she’d been given by Gelebor. Every shot exploded on impact, lighting the hall with a myriad of colours. Lightning still sparked off her, taking out any vampire who came to engage her in melee combat.

Natalie could see almost see an end to the flow of enemies. She fired one last arrow, shouldering the bow and preparing a final strike. She absorbed the aura around her, lightning staying close to her skin and flowing between her tattoos. She yelled out, shaking the building and drawing the attention of the enemies surrounding both her and Serana, “ **BRING ME HARKON!** ” None of them answered the enraged elf, “ **NO** **?! FINE!** ”

She took a running jump, soaring through the air. Lightning and flames surrounded her body as she began to descend towards the centre of the room. She concentrated every last bit of her magic into her gauntlet, the magic leaking out and striking the walls around her. With one final roar, she hit the ground, punching down with enough force to crack the stone. A wall of lightning and flames radiated from the point of impact, incinerating any vampire of thrall unlucky enough to be hit. The energy avoided Serana, the wall moving apart for her then reconnecting once it had passed. Every corpse Natalie or Serana had been responsible for was turned to ash, the remains blasted to the edges of the room. It left the centre empty save for the two women. The wave hit the edge of the room flaring up the walls before dissipating. Natalie stood to her full height, somehow not fatigued at all despite her extreme display of raw power.

Clapping rang out across the hall, both invader’s attention snapping to the source. Harkon strode out on the balcony, a broad smirk across his face. “Bravo! A quite impressive, if futile, display. I clearly underestimated you daughter,” His gaze turned from Serana to Natalie, all mirth draining from his features, “…and half-breed.”

Natalie drew her twin swords, white flames emanating from the metal blades. “Half-breed? I’m more vampire than you’ll ever be.” Natalie fell back into a fighting stance, preparing for what was most likely to be the toughest opponent she had ever faced, “There’s nowhere you can run now Harkon. This ends here, right now.”

“Run?” Booming laughter echoed through the stone great hall, “Why would I run? I finally have everything I could have ever wanted. You’ve collected everything I need to fulfil the prophecy and rule over this pathetic little world. Auriel’s Bow, the key to all of this, and you’ve brought it right to me. The universe has delivered it to me as a sign of gratitude.” He shot a maniacal sneer at Serana, “And you even brought my daughter back to me. That missing link. A Daughter of Coldharbour. I would reward you both most handsomely… if I didn’t have to kill you for defying my rule. Oh well, it can’t be helped I suppose.”

Serana stepped forward, her anger at her father boiling over, “Defying your rule? Are you kidding me? What exactly do you rule? This island? Maybe a little bit of the water around it?” Harkon’s face twisted with anger, “You don’t control anything. You’re no king. You’re a sad, pathetic, old man who alienated his own wife and daughter because you wanted power more than us. You want to kill your own flesh and blood? What kind of sick twisted creature would want that? Oh, that’s right, no one but a monster.” Natalie strode forward to stand next to the vampire princess, “You want to kill us? Kill two Daughters of Coldharbour? Kill the Bane of Alduin? The Last Dragonborn? THEN BRING IT ON!”

Harkon’s rage spilled onto his face, warping his features into an even more monstrous visage, “HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT CHILD!” He stepped forward, the stone balustrade giving almost no resistance as his leg pushed through it. He fell from the balcony, not even bothering to bend his legs to absorb the impact of the fall, the stone floor beneath him cracking from the landing. “I WASN’T GOING TO ENJOY KILLING YOU, DAUGHTER… BUT NOW…” Harkon’s hands flashed out, ethereal rapiers snapping into existence. “I’LL ENJOY CHOKING THE LIFE FROM BOTH OF YOU.”

Vampires and thralls alike surrounded the great hall on every side, looking down on it as though it was an arena. Three of the most powerful beings in all of Tamriel stood ready to do battle to the death. None would dare interfere, the fear of their lord far too great to even think of doing so. And if their master was to be killed here, what chance could they possibly have of defeating the victors?

“ ** _FUS ROH DAH!_** ” Natalie started the battle in earnest, letting off a powerful Shout. Harkon masterfully spun around the wave of force, letting it hit the wall behind him. Natalie and Serana used his momentary lack of vision of them to close the distance between them, swinging their weapons as hard as they could. Harkon’s centuries of experience kicked in, bringing his own blades up just quickly enough to block their initial blows.

Both women sprung backwards, firing off blasts of lightning. Harkon spun his swords in an arc, deflecting them away from his body with a flourish. Natalie charged straight back in, exchanging a flurry of blows with her enemy. Every time the silver struck the magic blades, sparks rained onto the ground beneath them. Every blow had enough force to completely cleave through one another if they had been able to strike. The elf analysed Harkon’s fight pattern as she fought, noting several flaws in it. If it weren’t for his speed and strength, he would not stand much of a chance against her. As it were, his vampiric enhancements more than made up for any skill he may have lacked. It was obvious to her that Harkon was not the type to do the fighting himself, preferring to only involve his own skills when his lackeys proved incapable. Unfortunately for him, this had meant he would very rarely practice his own swordcraft.

Serana came around to Harkon’s blind spot, throwing an ice lance at the perfect angle. He barely managed to dodge, the magical spear slicing open a thin line on his arm. Almost immediately, the wound closed, Harkon’s face barely betraying the annoyance he felt at actually being injured. Serana leapt into the fray, approaching her father from the opposite side to Natalie, forcing him to face them both. Her dagger was blocked at every turn, the sword she’d summoned in her other hand just as ineffective. She began to use projectionary magic, small gouts of flame emitting from the end of her dagger every time Harkon blocked her advances. Small burns were instantly healed, but Serana had planned on this being a long and arduous fight, knowing every injury they could inflict on her father was worth it.

Natalie sped up her attacks, aiming for every weakness in Harkon’s guard. She began to push him back, her assault too rapid for him to effectively defend against while stationary. With a masterful display, Natalie pushed both Harkon’s blades to the side, jumping and landing a double-footed kick to his chest. While Harkon was still reeling from the blow, Natalie vaulted back to her feet and embedded both silver swords in the ground, charging fire in her palms and releasing at Harkon’s still airborne frame.

He’d seen it coming. Harkon righted himself, producing a blood red ward and blocking Natalie’s magical attack. Serana joined her, adding to the flaming funnel, pushing the vampire lord even further back.

Harkon snarled, “You think this is enough to defeat me?! THIS IS NOTHING!” He raised one hand, leaving the other to hold back the women’s combined assault. An orb black as night formed in his outstretched fist, writhing tendrils constantly shifting on its surface. Natalie had never seen anything like it. The tendrils abruptly shot across the room, wrapping around the throats of many of their onlookers. Natalie and Serana watched in horror as their skin turned grey and their eyes bulged out before finally collapsing in clouds of dust. The black magic tendrils pulsed with a myriad of different colours, all flowing back into Harkon’s outstretched hand. Natalie could sense his newfound power. Whatever he’d done, Harkon had managed to absorb all the power from the servants he’d killed.

With a simple movement of his hands, Harkon’s ward shot forward, eclipsing the stream of flame and sending both women flying. Both managed to right themselves in the air and land without harm, sliding across the stone floor. Natalie’s head snapped up to stare at the creature before them. This was what Serana had meant when she said her father was almost unkillable. His lack of skill with a sword was inconsequential if he could simply absorb the energy of those around him and amplify his own. If he attempted to take Natalie’s power, she wasn’t entirely certain she could stop him. They would have to end this quickly or they risked creating a monster so powerful there would be no one who could end him.

Natalie brought Auriel’s Bow into her hands, firing arrows as quickly as she could. She changed targets with every shot, trying to put Harkon on the back foot. The vampire lord predicted every shot, deflecting every magical arrow with his summoned rapiers. Serana began to attack as well, firing off spell after spell. The air began to burn as destruction magic left trails of carnage in its wake. The two women marched forward, putting everything they had into their assaults. Harkon only smiled at their attempts, remaining rooted to a single spot.

They finally came to the Blades of Auriel embedded in the floor. Both switched out their weapons for one each, holding them two handed. “ ** _MID VUR SHAAN!_** ” Natalie’s Shout reverberated through the air, sinking into both her and Serana. Both felt a sudden rush of speed as the effects became active. To Harkon’s eyes, they were immediately upon him, swinging with all their vampiric might. He barely had time to block the swords, sending him staggering back several steps. Both capitalised, pressing the attack with blades swinging so fast they appeared as blurs to everyone else. Harkon screamed in his rage, incapable of keeping up with their speed and make his own attack.

Natalie and Serana pressed him further back through the hall, their double-handed strikes far too fast for even Harkon’s enhanced speed to keep up with. Natalie could see the growing frustration in his eyes, a small smile curling the edges of her lips. She and Serana were attacking in perfect unison. They had watched each other for long enough to perfectly know the other’s style as well as their strength and weaknesses. They made up for each other’s flaws in technique while capitalising on their strengths.

A rapid glance and small nod from Natalie told Serana what to do next. With one final flick of their swords, they managed to spread Harkon’s arms wide, each rushing through with their fists. Natalie’s gauntlet and Serana’s right hand dealt a heavy blow to his gut, pushing the air straight out of his lungs. They stepped around his guard, grabbing an arm each and tossing him towards the entrance they’d blasted through previously. He bounced several times as he struck the stone, coming to rest when he collided with the opposite wall.

Almost immediately, Harkon regained his feet, “ENOUGH!” He raised his hands, black orbs forming in both, the tendrils of magic just the same as before, “I TIRE OF YOUR PATHETIC ATTACKS! YOU WILL DIE, NOW!” The tendrils snapped out, wrapping around all but a few of Harkon’s lackeys spread throughout the room. The life began to seep from them as they were constricted by the magic.

“ **NO!** ” Natalie roared as she tore the second blade from Serana’s grasp, sprinting down the length of the hall. With every step she took, more of her power seeped out, an intense storm of lightning surrounding her small frame. At the same time, Harkon’s form warped and changed, his vampire lord state coming into being. The onlookers began collapsing into dust by the dozen, feeding all of their strength into Harkon. Natalie leapt up, bringing her swords above her head. She swung down towards the monster below, lightning sparking forward with the blades.

Harkon rose at blinding speed, rearing back with all his terrible might. His fist came forward with such a force that the air whistled around it, taking Natalie in the direct centre of her chest. All at once, Natalie’s magic was reflected away from Harkon, her sternum cracked from the blow and her eyes almost bulged out of her face from the shock. All of the momentum she’d built up from her running at Harkon was completely reversed, sending her spiralling through the air, almost to the high roof of the great hall. She came crashing down, several ribs breaking on impact. She bounced and slid along the floor till the wall met her, halting her movement.

The ethereal armour that had surrounded her dissipated, rising away from her in a cloud of sparks. Natalie groaned as she struggled to her feet, using the swords as leverage to rise. Her bones snapped back into place, audible cracks to her ears. Natalie looked up, eyes burning with hatred for the being at the other end of the hall. Serana came to her side, helping her back to her feet properly.

“ _You never had a chance to defeat me, worm. I am eternal. I am a king. AND YOU WILL KNEEL BEFORE YOU DIE!_ ” Harkon’s voice belted out over the hall, his new form shifting it into something even more demonic than before. He flapped his wings, holding him aloft in the air. His clawed hands began to glow with magic, the blood red spell that would drain Serana and Natalie’s life if it managed to connect.

The spells came flying, the two vampires rolling out of the way and avoiding them. They began their counterattack, sprinting along opposite sides of the room, firing ice lances with every step. Harkon simply batted aside every attack, shattering the ice and covering the ground beneath him with frost. As they approached the end of the hall, Natalie and Serana used their speed to run up the wall, managing to stay off the ground. They stood a final few steps before launching themselves at their foe. Serana formed a giant sword made of ice in her hands, swinging it down towards her father. Natalie brought the Swords of Auriel to bear, doing the same.

Harkon moved in the air, shattering Serana’s icy blade and grabbing her throat with one hand. He raised up a foot, catching Natalie in the chest and sending her flying away. He turned his attention to his daughter, bringing his terrifying visage close to her, “ _You have failed, daughter. Nothing you can do will save you or her._ ”

Serana barely managed to speak, choking out only a few words as her breathing was constricted, “Maybe… nothing… I… can… do…”

Harkon turned in confusion to find Natalie inches from him. She’d been able to push off the wall Harkon had threw her into, bringing her back into the mid-air fight. She tackled him from the air, pummelling anything she could reach with her fists. Every blow was filled with the ferocity of her wrath, breaking bones and skin wherever she could. The trio hit the ground, a tangle of limbs and flesh. Serana was sent tumbling away from them, skidding to one corner of the room. Natalie brought her and Harkon to a stop, straddling his chest and beating his face with her fists.

Harkon brought one arm up, throwing Natalie from his body. “ _RESTRAIN HER!_ ” Harkon’s orders were immediately obeyed. Serana was seized from behind, two of the most powerful vampires at Harkon’s disposal on each arm, locking their grips and keeping her still.

“LET ME GO!” Serana struggled against them, proving unable to move. Despite her far superior strength as a Daughter of Coldharbour, Serana did not have the amount necessary to break their hold. They struck the back of her knees, forcing her to kneel in the direction of Harkon. Natalie made to come help, earning a fierce look of determination from the vampire princess, “NO! KILL THAT MONSTER. DON’T WORRY ABOUT ME.”

Natalie returned her attention to Harkon, only just now rising to his feet. The bones she’d broken in his face shifted back into position, back to his usual form. “ _One down. One to go._ ”

“ **I WILL NOT LET YOU WIN!** ” Natalie bellowed out a war cry, not even bothering to pick up the swords as she charged in. She ducked beneath the first swing of Harkon’s claws, bringing her gauntlet around in a wide arc to strike Harkon in the side of the chest. She continued to dodge his blows faster than she ever had before, her anger fuelling her every move. Every one of her own attacks were wreathed in lightning or flames, adding to the damage she inflicted. Natalie brought her fist rocketing up, catching Harkon at full force in the stomach. He doubled over from the pain, failing to grab Natalie as she slid under his legs. She jumped, kicking him in the back with both feet.

Harkon came off his feet, but used his wings to stop his movement and spin in the air, just in time to catch Natalie’s fist. Her gauntlet came rushing at the other side of his head, caught in the same way and held fast. Natalie pushed forward and up with everything she had, unable to move the far taller opponent even an inch. Harkon began to push down, forcing Natalie’s knees to bend under the pressure. Harkon could see her eyes glowing behind the mask. She was using all of the vampiric strength at her disposal along with any other strength she had.

Natalie concentrated her magicka, moving it to the soles of her feet. Flames licked at the stone around her feet, becoming more intense by the second. Slowly, Natalie rose from the ground, the flames giving her enough thrust to overpower Harkon’s strength. Fire pulsed from the soles of her feet, bathing the ground beneath her with heat. Soon she was eye level with Harkon, continuing to rise past it. She was above him now, her turn to push and attempt to force her foe to his knees.

Abruptly, Natalie whipped her head forward, slamming her mask into Harkon’s nose. Blood sprayed as his nose broke upon impact, a surprised grunt issuing from his throat. She repeatedly headbutt him, her mask providing ample protection from each blow. “ ** _YOL TOOR SHUL!_** ” Natalie’s shout bathed Harkon’s face in fire, the heat just managing to burn his skin. All the while, Natalie attempted to pull her fists away from Harkon’s hold and free them to attack him more effectively. She raised her legs up, blasting flames down his torso and melting the toughened grey skin from him.

Harkon did as she wanted, releasing his hold over her fists. Natalie was not expecting the sudden lack of force holding her, the magic pulsing from her feet propelling her away. Before she could get far, Harkon reached out, grabbing hold of a foot and bringing her back in close. His hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her body high before smashing her into the ground. He kneeled down, one knee on Natalie’s chest, locking her in place. He punched down into her face, colliding with the Priest of Alduin’s mask. Natalie attempted to stop him, only for her hands to be struck aside. Harkon rained blows down onto the mask, the force shattering the stone beneath Natalie’s head. Her vision wavered from every punch, black creeping in from the edges. She could feel blood start to well up beneath her head, the mask unable to absorb the impact of the back of her head hitting the ground.

Natalie’s eyes widened as she noticed a crack in the mask around her eye holes. With every blow it widened. She could sense magicka spilling into the air, charging the surroundings with energy. With one final titanic blow, the mask shattered into pieces, releasing the pent-up power within. Harkon was thrown away from her, unable to stop himself from being affected by the explosion. Natalie was blasted backwards, pieces of the mask following her. She managed to sit up, coughing up and spitting out blood to stain the ground. She picked up a piece of the mask, amazed it could be broken. She had always assumed the mask was indestructible, that the dragons had made them to actually protect their priests form any harm that could possibly come their way.

The two most powerful beings in Nirn were equally dazed from the explosion, struggling to regain their feet. The vampires holding Serana made no move to help their master, giving her no chance of escape. One of them had managed to cast a small ward to protect them from the mask’s outburst, the magic only just strong enough to withstand it.

Natalie shook out her hair, pushing it back behind her ears. Blood ran down her face from numerous injuries, the mask’s destruction being the cause of almost all of them. She’d landed near where she’d left the silver swords, lifting them back to their rightful place in her hands. “Is that the best you can do?” She was breathing hard, finally starting to be fatigued from the battle, “Alduin fought harder than this!”

Harkon roared, attacking with renewed vigour. Natalie responded, meeting him in the centre of the room. The blades sung as she swung them through the air, blocked at every turn by Harkon’s claws. His claws should not have been able to block these blades, as deadly as silver was to a vampire. Natalie could not waste time on pondering why this was the case, focusing all of her attention on killing the monster in front of her. They exchanged blow after blow, neither one gaining the upper hand. Despite Harkon’s larger frame and longer reach, he could not seem to hit Natalie, her smaller frame offering her the speed to parry his attacks and respond with her own.

Harkon began to attack more rapidly, sacrificing precision for raw speed. Natalie tried to keep up, lessening her chances at attacking to keep up her defence. Harkon saw his opening. He switched his blow at the last second, managing to catch Natalie’s wrist and start to crush it. The sword began falling, quickly snatched from the air by Harkon’s claws. Both vampires gripped their swords with two-handed grips, trading blows with blinding speed.

Natalie had barely any time to react to losing one of her weapons, now forced to defend against her own weapon. A cut from this blade would do far more damage than one of Harkon’s claws. The fire enchantment alone would burn her enough to almost prevent her from fighting back. Combine that with the silver’s effect on vampires and the other enchantment that would prevent her from using her left arm entirely would spell disaster for her.

The ringing of silver on silver filled the air, finally coming to a stop as Harkon slammed into Natalie’s sword with all of his might. He pushed her back a step as he bore down with his own sword. “ _Give up. You cannot hope to defeat me now._ ”

“There is always hope.” Natalie slipped under Harkon’s blade, thrusting forward with hers.

He was too fast.

Harkon spun out of the way, slamming the pommel of his sword into Natalie’s wrist, forcing her hand open and causing her to drop the sword.

Harkon retaliated with a thrust of his own.

The sword landed.

“NOOOOO!” Serana cried out at the scene in front of her, tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

Natalie’s eyes widened as she looked down. Harkon had buried the silver blade in his hand to the hilt in her gut. The black-purple leather armour surrounding the blade burned away instantaneously, the skin surrounding the wound coming with it soon after. She looked up into Harkon’s eyes, blood dripping from her wound onto the ground. Blood trickled down the edges of her mouth as she coughed, spattering Harkon’s grey chest with her blood and shifting the blade in her stomach. She could feel the sword’s enchantments working, burning her skin but doing something far worse to her body. One of the other enchantments was undoing what it had taken nine of the best mages Skyrim had to offer to achieve. She could feel it undoing the pathways within her own body that her magicka followed. It would make her dangerously unstable if she even attempted to use magic.

Harkon smiled, his fangs extending as he examined Natalie’s eyes, “ _Ahh… I know that look. You’ve never lost before, have you? Oh, you’ve most certainly lost things. You’ve lost people. Friends. Loved ones._ ” He leant closer, “ _But you’ve never truly been defeated by an enemy._ ” He chuckled, “ _I suppose there’s a first time for everything._ ”

Natalie could barely see, the pain of her extreme wound taking all of her effort just to stay conscious. She coughed again, trying to come up with a plan. There had to be a way out of this. Some way to win. She had never failed Tamriel before. Her best had always been enough.

An idea sprung into her head. It was a long shot, and would more than likely not work, but she had to try. While Harkon gloated above her, she slowly raised her right hand, finding the hilt of her elven dagger strapped to her lower back. As silently as she could, she drew the small blade into her hand, preparing to strike. With all the speed she could muster, she thrust at Harkon’s stomach.

Once more, he saw the attack coming. He grabbed her wrist before the dagger could penetrate, crushing it until she released the blade. He caught it, admiring the craftmanship. “ _Quite a nice little piece this. Shame it’s owner is so foolish._ ” He buried it near the sword, a new gasp of pain coming from the elf. Harkon kept a hold on the weapon buried within her, taking Natalie’s other two daggers. “ _So many weapons! How would you ever use them all?_ ” He smirked, “ _Here’s one way!_ ” He did the same as the elven, embedding both Daedric and Dragonbone deep in her abdomen. “ _But why stop there? You still have one more!_ ”

Harkon flicked the second Blade of Auriel into his hand, light reflecting off it. Natalie watched it in slow motion as it rushed forward. She could feel every inch of the metal as it penetrated her gut, fresh waves of pain shooting throughout her body. She could hear Serana’s sobbing somewhere far off. Nothing could eclipse this pain. It was worse than when Alduin had melted the gauntlet onto her hand. It was worse than the greatsword being buried in the same spot, the enchantments on the blade made sure of that.

Natalie’s arms fell uselessly to her side. She knew this was it. There was nothing she could do from this point. Her grievously injured body could not give her anything more. This was where she died.

Harkon reached up, taking Auriel’s Bow from her shoulder. Natalie did not resist, could not resist. He beckoned one of his lackeys over, handing him the bow. Harkon reached up with a clawed hand, drawing a blessed arrow from her quiver and twirling it within his fingers. “ _You say you are a Daughter of Coldharbour._ ” He sneered at her, “ _How about we test that?_ ” The arrow rose up, pressing against her cheek. Harkon pressed a little bit harder, splitting the skin over and spilling her blood onto the arrow. He sliced a long gash on her bronze skin, blood running down her cheek to drip off her chin. The arrow began to change as the blood soaked into the head. The gentle golden glow slowly receded, the entire length changing to be black as night, shining with an otherworldly red light. Harkon lifted it to admire the change, “ _Well, you weren’t lying about it after all._ ”

Harkon handed off the arrow to his servant, raising his eyes to the roof as he prepared a spell. The lord of the castle held up a hand, forming a ball of flame in his palm. He discharged it, the magic rushing off and hitting the roof. The stonework exploded, showering them with small bits of rubble and letting in the bright daylight. The sun was almost directly overhead, burning with its radiance. The vampire drew back the string, aiming directly at the bright orb. He released.

For a few seconds nothing happened. Had the prophecy been wrong? Had all this been for nothing after all?

The change was slow, almost deliberate. Right in the centre of the sun above, a small black-red dot appeared. It expanded slowly, taking over the shining light with its darkness. It eventually spread completely, swallowing the entire sun and only leaving a black husk, its edge glowing with blood red light.

The new sun bathed them in deep red light, Harkon breathing deeply at the feeling of victory. He looked down at Natalie, smiling at the look of pain and shock on her face. “ _How does it feel to fail so completely, that you take the whole world down with you?_ ” His booming laughter filled the hall once more. Harkon raised his hand, a midnight black orb forming one final time. Its tendrils raced out, gripping the throats of the vampire with Auriel’s Bow and one more holding Serana. Their combined life force healed Harkon’s burns, grey skin sealing over the small amount of damage Natalie had been able to inflict.

Tears filled Natalie’s eyes at the implications of what had just happened. They had lost. She had been the cause of it all. She’d brought this maniacal tyrant exactly the weapon he needed to win. And she was going to die for it. “ _Now, it’s time to end this farce._ ”

Harkon gripped the hilts of the Twin Swords of Auriel, ripping them out of Natalie’s gut. She stumbled back, a fresh flow of her blood spraying into the air and flowing from both the entrance wound on her front and exit wound on the back. She gasped for air, her chest heaving with every breath. Her legs began to wobble, her muscles unable to keep her up any longer. Before she could fall, Harkon attacked one last time.

His leg came swinging around, sweeping hers out from under her and tossing her body into the air like a rag doll. As she was suspended in mid-air, Harkon brought one of the swords down, piercing straight through her right shoulder and accelerating her descent. The blade hit the ground, cracking apart the stone as it screeched into the floor. Harkon continued to push until Natalie was completely pinned to the ground, the cross-guard flush with her shoulder. She gasped for air, her lungs beginning to fill with blood. The blade had snapped tendons and carved apart muscle, making her arm almost useless. Blood began to pool under her, both from the wound in her shoulder and the gaping hole in her stomach, three daggers still sticking out of it.

Harkon repeated his action, thrusting the other sword into her left shoulder, burying it to the same depth as the other. Its enchantment immediately set upon disentangling the ones running through Natalie’s flesh. She raised her gauntlet up, becoming harder to do so by the second. Soon, the enchantment was gone, her gauntlet falling to the ground with what seemed to Natalie a deafening crash. She could not move her left arm at all.

The blades’ effects began to unravel the magical pathways carved through her body even further, destabilising her magic. Natalie managed to turn her head, finding Serana’s gaze, filled with tears. Both women stared at each other for a few seconds, fresh tears coming to both their eyes.

“I’m sorry Ser…an…a” Natalie could barely get the words out, her breath coming to her harder by the second. She could feel blood start to pool in her lungs from her grievous wounds, restricting her breathing even further. A final breath came rattling from her throat, barely a whisper in the carnage of her surroundings.

Natalie had maintained eye contact with Serana the whole time, even as she drew the last breath into her ravaged body. Serana could only struggle against the vampires holding her, and watch as the life drained from the eyes of the only person in this world she still cared about. The vampiric red in Natalie’s eyes faded back to forest green before finally changing to grey as her body stilled completely.

Serana stopped struggling, hot, grief laden tears trickling down her cheeks. Sobs wracked her body at the vision of Natalie on the ground. Watching Natalie’s life drain away before her eyes had completely broken her will. She gave no effort to stop the vampires from dragging her away.

She didn’t even look up as they left the hall, leaving Natalie’s body surrounded by the chaos of their battle. The fight had all been for naught.

They had lost.


	17. Ascending to Divinity

**Loredas, 7:30am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Island**

 

Torbald pushed the thrall back with his shield, thrusting him into the waiting jaws of the tiger. The satisfying crunch of plate armour being punctured almost distracted Torbald from the next enemy. The vampire had thought to take advantage of his momentary lapse of concentration, but the ebony shortsword he’d been given had a mind of its own. His arm swung around, sparks flying off the two blades connecting. His enemy managed to push him back several steps with its superior strength.

The young Nord used a manoeuvre Natalie had taught him, twisting his blade and using the vampire’s very strength against it. The ancient being stumbled past him, Torbald spinning and carving its back in two. Collapsed on the ground, the vampire died with a scream as Torbald shoved his blade through its heart.

He was breathing hard. They’d only been fighting for barely more than an hour, but the far physically stronger enemy had taxed all of their strengths. Natalie’s tiger seemed to be the only one not fatigued by the battle. If anything, he was fighting harder, sensing his ally’s condition and increasing his effort just to compensate. Torbald reminded himself to give the giant cat as much meat as he could eat as a reward for all of this.

The entire battlefield suddenly shook, drawing every combatant’s attention. The roof of the castle had exploded in a brilliant fireball, lighting up the early morning sky and outshining the sun. Torbald quickly regained his composure, using the magical display to his advantage and slaughtering any enemy near him. The white tiger had the same idea, following him and assisting with every kill.

The battle soon restarted in earnest; every participant refocused on the task at hand. The Dawnguard were winning, barely. They had greater numbers than the vampires and were far better organised, but the vampire’s strength was causing them some distress. Torbald himself had killed dozens of thralls and ten vampires, mostly with the help of his men and the tiger. Others of the Dawnguard were not faring as well, some injured to the point of almost not being able to fight, but they kept at it, all knowing the stakes if they lost.

The castle drew everyone’s attention once more. A black streak fired from the castle, Torbald recognising it as an arrow. This arrow was different though. It continued its upwards path, showing no sign of slowing down or changing trajectory. All eyes tracked its path, the target becoming obvious.

Torbald’s eyes widened with realisation. They had just lost this entire fight. Tamriel had lost.

But… he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting inside.

Even as the sun grew black, and the entire world was plunged into darkness, Torbald fought with renewed vigour. Speed and strength a mortal such as himself should not possess surged through him. He charged towards the castle, no enemy able to withstand his wrath. Vampires and thralls died with every swing of his sword, thrown away from his path.

He had to save Natalie at any cost. He couldn’t let his grandmother die without him. Not so soon after finding her. He would save her.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 7:30am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**?**

 

The darkness was all consuming, surrounding her completely. Her eyes slowly opened to nothingness, the only thing visible was her own hair at the edges of her vision, somehow perfectly arranged over her shoulders.

Natalie slowly rose into a kneeling position, her situation dawning within her mind. She was dead. Harkon had murdered her, despite all their efforts. She had been truly defeated for the first time ever. All hope was lost.

She was in Oblivion, about to be confronted by all the Daedric Princes she’d ever promised her soul to. Even now, there would be no rest for her. Her life would continue as one of torture and pain. Anger built up inside her as tears tracked down her cheeks. The realm around her became saturated with energy as her wrath grew. Her tattoos glowed down her right arm, crackling with red electricity. From the dark void above her, giant lightning bolts came down and struck the ground around her. The tattoos down her back glowed with the same red power, visible even through her leather armour.

Laughter echoed through the space just as Natalie’s eyes shifted to vampiric red, shining through the darkness. Her head snapped up, focusing on the source.

Molag Bal.

“ _An interesting turn of events, wouldn’t you say, oh great Dragonborn?_ ”

“You knew?” Natalie quivered with rage at the Daedric Prince, “YOU KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?!” Natalie rose to her feet, the lightning strikes becoming more intense as she directed all her fury at the thing in front of her. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO DIE?!” She snapped, “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Natalie sprinted at the demonic figure, making it halfway to him. Molag Bal simply raised his hand, stopping the elf completely in her tracks, “ _Ah ah ah… your soul is mine now. I won’t have you being so disrespectful._ ”

The vampire pressed forward with all her might, feeling out for flaws in the spell binding her in place. She found none, but pressed forward nonetheless. She could feel the barrier weakening from her efforts. The lightning crackling from her was soon joined by flames, wreathing nearly her entire body. Natalie screamed with a final effort, shattering through Molag Bal’s hold. She took a few steps, leaping into the air. Red lightning streaked down from above, striking her raised gauntlet.

Her fist rushed forward, all her anger, sorrow and desperation brought forward with it. The gauntlet froze in the air mere millimetres away from the Daedric Prince’s nose. He studied the elf’s face. Never before had a mortal broke his hold. And now, here was this woman, and she’d done it twice. Natalie’s entire body vibrated with power, fuelling her rage even further. The tears slowly falling down her cheeks betrayed the wrath in her eyes, revealing an intense sadness within her.

He released his hold, Natalie collapsing to her knees. She made no move to attack again, instead letting the tears flow. Her anger evaporated, only the grief left to fill her up. Sobs wracked through her body, painful as she fully took on what had happened.

“ **GOD!** ” Natalie punched the ground with her right hand, punctuated by lightning strikes all around her.

“ **FUCKING!** ” Her gauntlet came next, the electricity even more intense, pulsing from her body with yet more power.

“ **DAMNIT!** ” Both fists slammed down, the storm striking her and the surroundings, lighting the entire darkness of the void she found herself within.

Her emotions were shaking the ground, every breath flexing the void around her. Acceptance washed over her even as the Daedric Prince looked on in awe. She was easily the most powerful mortal he had ever come across, even across all the eons of his existence. The fact that even while dead, her soul still possessed this much power was nothing short of ridiculous. His gift to her of vampirism had only further enhanced her already prodigious strength.

“Just do it.” Natalie managed to say through a shaky breath. “Tear my soul apart, whatever you want. I’ve promised it to too many of you to care anymore.” The elf buried her face in her hands, “I’ve already lost everything I care about.”

A gentle hand came down to cup Natalie’s cheek. She looked up into the face of Nocturnal, a sincere smile curling the Daedric Princess’ lips. Molag Bal rolled his eyes behind them, disgusted at the display of affection.

“ _Not quite yet, my child._ ” The Night Mistress’ voice was as comforting as ever, even in the darkest of situations.

Natalie’s mind raced with confused thoughts, “What? How can I come back from this?” Her rage built up again, rising to scream in the face of the divine being, “I’M DEAD, NOCTURNAL! HARKON FUCKING KILLED ME! HOW AM I MEANT TO COME BACK FROM THAT?!” She paced back and forth, “I USED EVERYTHING! IT WASN’T ENOUGH! AND DON’T SAY BECOME WHAT HE DID. I WON’T! I… I can’t.”

“ _I’m not asking you to._ ” Natalie spun to face her, “ _There is another way._ ”

Natalie raised her hand, “Don’t. Don’t give me hope.”

More Daedric Princes and Princesses stepped out of the darkness in front of Natalie. Hircine, Sheogorath, Meridia and Sanguine joined their counterparts within the void. Natalie stared at each one of them in turn. To say she was confused at their presence was an understatement. They’d helped her before to defeat Alduin, but he had threatened their own existence. Why would they possibly care if Harkon took over Nirn? What could that change to make them all come to her aid? And was it even possible to bring her back from the dead? The Daedric Lords were powerful, there was no question, but did they really have this power?

“Why?” It was a simple question, one Natalie had to ask. “Why would you help me now? What do you possibly stand to gain?”

Molag Bal lips curled into a smirk to display his myriad of teeth, “ _I for one enjoy meddling in your life. If you remain dead, there goes my fun._ ” His expression grew wrathful, flames seeming to ignite in his eyes, “ _And Harkon has disobeyed me for the last time. My servant has outlived his usefulness._ ”

Hircine padded forward as the great wolf he so often chose to represent himself as, “ _I owe you a debt Natalie, one I can never repay. You have saved my children countless times and understood my gift better than any mortal before you, even if you had to give it up. I also help you because it is the right thing to do. My own children will suffer if Harkon remains victorious._ ”

Sanguine spoke up, “ _Frankly, most mortals are just plain boring. At least you keep it exciting._ ”

Meridia had a slight look of distaste on her beautiful visage, “ _Despite your current… condition… you fight on the side of the light. What Harkon has done cannot stand. I will not have an entire realm plunged into darkness when I can do something about it._ ” Molag Bal scoffed at her words, silenced by a glare from the shining Daedric Princess.

Sheogorath cackled with his usual demeanour, “ _Well, they don’t call me the Prince of Madness for nothing. I flipped a coin, lucky for you, it landed heads up._ ” He grinned, “ _As in, putting your head back up on Nirn._ ” Natalie stared blankly at him, “ _Ugh… you people really need to lighten up._ ”

Nocturnal’s smile brought a small comfort to Natalie, “ _I have always and will always help my Nightingales when they need it most. Especially you, Natalie._ ”

Hope crept its way into Natalie’s heart. If these beings arrayed before her could truly do what they said, there was still a chance to save everyone. To save Serana. She looked up at them with renewed determination, nodding her approval of their plan, closing her eyes.

They raised their arms as one, all aiming at the direct centre of Natalie’s chest. She braced for the impact, attempting to prepare herself for the influx of power. An almost imperceptible nod engaged all of them. Each godly being infused Natalie with power, a scream ripping from her lips as it coursed through her. The elf slid backwards before righting herself, tensing every bit of her soul to keep it from flying apart. Each one of her tattoos flashed back and forth between golden light and their normal black ink. The ones beneath her burns revealed themselves as their proper shapes, despite the destruction of the flesh itself. The runes down her spine shone through the leather, surrounding Natalie in a brilliant aura.

Her eyes opened, raw power bursting forth from them. The Daedric Princes and Princesses spoke as one, “ ** _Now, go. Take your revenge on the one who killed you. Make him feel our wrath for daring to fight against the Dragonborn._** ”

Natalie roared, fire spilling from her mouth as the entire void lit up with lightning strikes and her consciousness left the plane of Oblivion.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 7:35am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Castle**

 

The great hall was near silent, the sounds of the battle outside dulled by the walls and distance. Natalie’s body still lay impaled to the ground by the Twin Swords of Auriel, her blood forming a pool beneath her corpse. A subtle beat came from her chest. Another came soon after, the sound speeding up as her heart struggled to pump the blood around her suddenly revived body.

Her eyes flew open, her entire body shaking as she drew in a deep rasping breath. She was hyperventilating, the sudden shock of being given another lease on life almost too much for her body. She looked left and right, finding she was unable to rise due to the swords holding her to the stone floor. Her left arm would remain useless till she could reapply the enchantment, so she would have to remove them with her right.

Natalie struggled to raise her right arm far enough to grip the hilt of the right blade. The energy she’d been brought back with fought the blade’s enchantment, healing the burns from them just as fast as the blade could put them out. Every movement brought a fresh flow of blood onto the ground around her, Natalie grunting with the effort. She began to draw the blade out of her, the metal screeching against the stone beneath and her bones as it scraped past them. The blade was half out before Natalie had to reset her grip, her arm's length making it impossible to continue holding the hilt. Her hand wrapped around the blade itself, instantly burning off the skin and cutting into her flesh. The golden light pouring from her eyes and tattoos reflected off the blade as she completely removed it, a silent scream coming from her as the sword clattered down into the blood soaking into the stone.

Natalie lay there for a few moments, groaning as the wound in her right shoulder closed over completely, only a small scar to show where Harkon had injured her. She yanked each dagger out of her belly, placing them beside her with the silver blade. Her final task was at hand. She reached over, just barely able to fully grip the hilt of the last blade. She screamed, rolling over slightly and wrenching the sword free of her body. She lay still for several moments, breathing hard from the agony of tearing swords and daggers from her own body.

The elf pushed herself into a kneeling position, left arm still hanging uselessly by her side. Her armour barely clung to her frame, the sleeve covering her left arm held on by only a few stitches. She tore it off, throwing the scraps of leather to the side. The leather had six massive holes, two for each place she’d been impaled through by Harkon. That it didn’t just fall off her chest was nothing short of a miracle. The enchanted leather remained somewhat intact, at least covering most of her chest.

Natalie found the deep green crystal in her pocket. Luckily for her, Serana had returned it since their travels through the valley. She spun it on the ground, the enchantment circle flaring into being. She strangely felt no pain as she moved her gauntlet into the centre of it, preparing to cast the spell. The moment she put the smallest amount of magic through her right hand, green lighting fired from the tips of her fingers, huge bolts striking and cracking the stone of the far wall. Natalie shook her hand out, deactivating the magic.

Being injured by the swords had destabilised the careful pathways spread throughout Natalie’s body to control her magic. The delicate time magic required to fix her armour required precision, and in her current state, she wasn’t certain she had it. Natalie took several deep breaths, tentatively holding her hand out over the metal. She allowed the magic to flow, the same strength as before, but more controlled. The massive bolts of lightning connected with her gauntlet and arm as her fingers went through the motions. Her metallic digits twitched once the enchantment began to take hold. The entire hall was lit up with the green energy, drowning out the golden glow of her Daedric-given power.

The lightning abruptly ended, Natalie lifting her gauntlet and flexing each finger with satisfaction. She had cast it correctly with no mistakes, a feat for her. She’d seen the exact differences Serana had put it into casting it, copying them perfectly as she had. The vampire princess had almost as great knack for learning magic as the elf did.

Natalie stayed kneeling in the pool of her own blood, concentrating inwards. Only a single thought crossed through her mind. _This isn’t enough_. The power she’d been given was great, but she needed more. She wanted Harkon to know pain. She wanted him to know what the fury of the Dragonborn felt like. She wanted him to suffer for all the pain he had caused. She would completely dominate him in battle before concluding his miserable existence. She would make him fear her before his end. The fear had to be all encompassing. The same fear she’d felt almost every day of her life. The same fear Serana had felt of the monster her father had become. She would make it so. And there was only one way to attain more power than what she already had.

She would have to take it. She knew not a single one would give her more by choice. The only path she could take, was force.

Natalie closed her eyes, forcing her consciousness back into Oblivion, back into the void.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 7:40am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**?**

 

Every Daedric Prince and Princess turned in surprise to find the elf back so soon. She was kneeling in front of them, completely calm despite the battle she was about to fight.

“I need more.” She slowly raised her head, opening her forest green eyes and fixing them all with a serious glare. “Give me more.”

Nocturnal looked at her, a concerned look creasing her face, “ _Any more power is likely to kill you Natalie._ ”

Molag Bal chuckled, “ _And as much as I like causing you pain, I’d rather you not die again, if we can avoid it._ ”

Natalie’s eyes were consumed by the golden light, pulsing out from them in waves, “ **It wasn’t a request.** ” A black ball of magic formed in her hand, tendrils writhing on its surface. She released it, letting it fly at Molag Bal, disappearing into his chest and sending him stumbling back several steps. She charged at blinding speed, grabbing the Daedric Prince and forcing him to his knees.

“ _HOW DARE YOU!_ ” He seethed with rage, preparing to strike at the elf before him.

“ **I WILL NOT BE BEHOLDEN TO YOU ANY LONGER!** ” Natalie dug her right hand into his skull, using every ounce of strength to crush the bone beneath. Her gauntlet came up, repeating the action and sending the Prince’s blood flowing down his scalp. Both hands clamped down, the black magic leaking from the edges of her contact with his head. Sanguine energy started to radiate from Bal, writhing in the air before connecting with Natalie’s body. His mouth hung open in shock, completely unprepared for Natalie’s actions. She leaned over him, forcing his head down and watching with satisfaction as his face twisted in pain. “ **YOUR POWER IS MINE!** ”

The golden light pouring from Natalie became more intense by the second, illuminating the void around her with its radiance. The other beings around her could only watch on in horror as their counterpart was drained of his strength. Natalie’s tattoos began to warp and bend, their edges becoming erratic.

Natalie released the Prince of Domination, his body slumping to the floor of the void. Blood pooled under his head, his entire form appearing wasted and malnourished. Natalie bristled with new power. It still wasn’t enough. She would take more. She set her sights on Sheogorath next, the Prince of Madness’ face constantly shifting between anger and amusement.

The Prince only smiled, “ _Give me your best shot._ ” Natalie formed an orb of black energy in each hand, tossing them both forward before charging. Sheogorath easily slapped the magic aside, blocking Natalie’s first punch and only just dodging her second. Her face was impassive as she engaged her foe in melee combat. Her strikes were far faster now, the power she’d been given along with what she’d taken from Molag Bal enhancing every aspect of her ability. Every second blow had the spell she’d copied from Harkon wrapped into it, Sheogorath having to deflect that as well as block the physical blow.

Natalie’s strikes began to break through the Prince of Madness’ defence, sending small pieces of the black orbs disappearing into his flesh. The other Daedric beings watched as Sheogorath slowed down, his power escaping and disappearing into Natalie’s body. Her skin began to crack apart at the edge of her tattoos, more of the golden glow escaping into her surroundings.

“ _ENOUGH!_ ” Sanguine joined in the battle from behind Natalie, bringing a sword he’d conjured swinging around to strike the elf in her side. Natalie reacted instantaneously, gripping Sheogorath by the throat, lifting him into the air and grabbing the sword with her gauntlet, stopping it mid-swing. “ _YOU DARE TAKE OUR POWER?!_ ” The sword quivered in the air, Sanguine’s strength not sufficient to pull it from Natalie’s grasp.

Natalie began to crush Sheogorath’s throat, more of his power flowing into Natalie’s body. “ **I gave you a chance to give it willingly.** ” The Prince of Madness’ struggles slowly stilled, his body going limp as his power was drained. “ **What I do now is your own fault.** ” The cracks around Natalie’s runes lengthened, carving pathways through her flesh and connecting every tattoo in one unbroken line. She released Sheogorath, turning her full attention to the Prince of Debauchery.

Natalie pulled on the sword, rushing forward with her hand and taking Sanguine from his feet with a heavy attack to his chest. She broke the sword into two, the pieces disintegrating as she threw it aside. She strode forward, conjuring a sword of her own. The prince was pulled to his knees, Natalie studying his frantic eyes. “ _You will suffer for this Natalie._ ” He spat the words in her face.

She brought the sword crashing down, piercing Sanguine at the top of his shoulder and burying the entire blade in his chest. “ **I have suffered for simply existing. Your threats mean nothing.** ” Natalie placed her gauntlet atop Sanguine’s head, draining his power with a spell. The prince’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as the very essence of his body was drained away. She let go soon after, Sanguine’s body joining those of Sheogorath and Molag Bal on the ground.

Natalie breathed in deeply, attempting to calm the storm of power raging within her soul. Controlling the power in the void of Oblivion was easier than in her physical body. It was good practice for when she sent herself back. This much power had the capability to instantly rip her apart if she could not maintain control. And she was about to enhance it even further.

Natalie turned to face the last three beings arrayed before her. She stared at Nocturnal, Hircine and Meridia in turn, daring them to attack her. She simply held out her hand, palm facing upwards. “ **Please… give it willingly. You know I can take it if I need to. Making enemies out of all of you was not how I planned this.** ”

Hircine padded forward, unafraid of the rampant power coursing through Natalie, “ _And how did you plan this exactly, Natalie? This power is more likely to tear you apart down to the core of your very being than to help you._ ” His voice was completely calm, no trace of the anger the three defeated Princes had displayed. “ _Even here, it threatens to rip your soul apart. What happens when we add more to that?_ ”

“ **I DON’T CARE!** ” Natalie bellowed out, lightning flaring in strikes away from her. “ **I will make Harkon suffer for what he has done. He will know my wrath!** ”

Nocturnal came forward, stopping barely a foot from Natalie, “ _My child, you could have done that with the power we had already given you. What you’ve done here, it is unnecessary._ ”

Natalie faltered for a moment, unsure of herself. Her resolve almost disappeared before she shook her head, “ **No. I need this. I can’t leave anything to chance.** ” She raised her head, “ **I have to save her… I have to be absolutely certain I can save Serana.** ”

The Night Mistress nodded, realising there was nothing she could say to alter Natalie’s course now. This power would either allow her to dominate Harkon in ways previously unseen in Nirn or it would cause her to fly apart at the seams. There were only two outcomes that could come out of this day. She re-joined Hircine, looking to Meridia, “ _And you, sister?_ ”

Meridia stared at Natalie, understanding the elf’s reasoning for attacking them. Luckily enough for the Dragonborn, Meridia outright hated Molag Bal and didn’t much care for Sanguine or Sheogorath, so Natalie’s assaults meant nothing to her. “ _I will do as you ask, Dragonborn. If only to ensure you expunge the darkness from Nirn_.” Her voice was melodic and a great relief to Natalie, thankful to hear she would not have to fight another of the godly beings.

Natalie stood before them once more, closing her eyes and preparing for the final influx of strength. The three raised their arms all at once, draining almost all of their power into Natalie’s soul. The cracks in Natalie’s skin widened further, spilling even more magical energy into the void. The power forced her to open her eyes, more cracks opening around the glowing golden orbs.

One by one, the Daedric Lords dropped, Nocturnal the last standing as she poured the last of what she could give into the elf. “ _Make this power worth it Natalie… don’t let it consume you._ ” Finally, the flow stopped, Natalie left standing in the void, surrounded by still bodies. Lightning flared off her erratically, the golden radiance unceasing from her tattoos and the rifts that had formed in her skin.

A whisper made it to her, Natalie spinning to stare at Molag Bal. He had managed to roll onto his back, using the last bit of energy he had to do it. “ _You have taken more of our power than any mortal has any right to. Know that these are only avatars, our true power lies in our own planes. We will come for you._ ”

Natalie landed a savaged kick to the Prince’s head, “ **I know.** ” With one last breath, Natalie relaxed her hold on the void, allowing her mind and soul to race back to her physical body.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 7:45am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Castle**

 

Torbald cut through the last defender, sprinting through the smoking ruin of the castle’s entrance. He spluttered and coughed as the thick black smoke entered his lungs. He slowed down, carefully picking his way over the large pieces of rubble strewn over the ground.

He finally cleared through the smoke, coming into the great hall of Volkihar Castle. The room had been destroyed; massive wooden tables lay in splinters at the edges. Bodies were piled in the corner, the centre of the room devoid of them with only ashes to cover the floor. The stone was cracked in many places. The battle that had taken place had been far beyond what he’d seen outside, the strength of the combatants in a completely separate realm to the Dawnguard’s soldiers.

Torbald’s eyes landed on Natalie, kneeling in the exact centre of the hall. She was illuminated in a circle of red light, shining down from the newly darkened sky above. A pool of blood surrounded her, utterly still despite the elf’s presence. He looked around, searching for the body of Serana or even of Harkon himself. He found nothing, taking several steps closer to his grandmother.

He froze, a rumbling from the sky above echoing through the hall. He looked up, storm clouds rushing into view from seemingly nowhere. Before Torbald could react, lightning streaked down from the clouds, striking Natalie and throwing Torbald into the air from the force. He hit the ground hard, struggling to raise his body up onto his elbows. Torbald’s mouth fell open at the sight.

Natalie stood in the blood even as it boiled from the lightning strike, gauntlet raised in the air. The lightning had not harmed her in the slightest, if anything, she was revelling in its power. The tattoos covering her body shone with a holy golden light, spreading to surround her as an aura. Her skin opened up as the power proved too much for the runes to handle, spreading her radiance even further into the dark hall.

The storm abruptly ended, Natalie slowly lowering her hand. The glow did not disappear, Natalie’s body vibrating with the sheer amount of energy flowing through her. Sparks of electricity flared up all over her body, joined by small balls of flame blinking on and off on her skin. Torbald could swear the muscles in her arms looked larger, the power forcing her body to give way as it enhanced her form. Her hands rose up, lightning arcing between her fingertips. It radiated down, curling around each weapon on the ground. They rose up, each piece of metal slotting perfectly into their correct sheaths.

Torbald struggled to his feet, marvelling at Natalie’s new state of being. He felt as though he should bow down in reverence to her. “Natalie?”

The elf’s head whipped around to stare at him, the movement causing small sparks to erupt between the strands of her long hair, “ **Torbald?** ” Her voice was an amalgam of many different ones, hers the most prevalent but interwoven with others. “ **You shouldn’t be here.** ”

“Where’s Serana? Is she...” Torbald watched Natalie’s expression fall slightly, even through the glow, “What happened?”

Natalie almost broke their eye contact in shame, “ **He killed me Torbald. Harkon was too much. We failed.** ”

Torbald couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If even Natalie failed against him, what hope would the Dawnguard have of destroying the monster? “Then how... how are you here now?”

“ **I can’t answer that... please trust me Torbald, it’s better if you don’t know.** ” Natalie turned to look at the hallway she knew her enemy had taken, “ **I’m going to make this right. I won’t let him win.** ” She turned back to face her grandson, “ **Order the Dawnguard to retreat.** ”

Torbald recoiled in shock, “What? But you might need us! He's already killed you once!”

“ **Torbald, please. Do it. I'll only be able to finish this if I know you won’t in harm's way. I... I can’t be the one to tell your mother you won’t be coming home.** ”

He saw there was no arguing. Not with the Dragonborn. Natalie’s words, though soft, were still an order. He may have questioned Isran’s, but he would not question hers. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Torbald turned to go, Natalie calling out to him when he’d made it a few steps, “ **Torbald.** ” He turned back to look in her eyes, “ **Tell Maralin... tell your mother I love her. And I'm sorry.** ”

Before Torbald could reply, she was gone, a flash of lightning and cracked stone all that was left in her wake. Torbald made his way as quickly as he could out of the castle, finding the battlefield slightly calmer than when he had left. Much of the vampiric army had been routed, some thralls wandering aimlessly with their masters long dead. He joined the largest group of Dawnguard soldiers, still fighting a few stragglers, “Retreat away from the castle, now!”

His orders were obeyed immediately, a look of relief on many of the soldier’s faces, some with confusion. His army pulled back into a defensive position closer to the shore, leaving only Torbald still near the castle. He looked up at the still smoking stone walls, “Please Natalie… don’t make me be the one to tell your daughter she’ll never see you again.”

With a silent prayer, he made his way back to his men, hoping his grandmother would survive her ordeal and make it back to him.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 7:50am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Castle**

 

Natalie stared at Torbald for the briefest moment, trying to memorise his face just in case she didn’t make it. She turned before he could say another word, moving as fast she could away from the great hall. Her new speed was almost too much to handle. Even to her perception, she almost teleported across the room, halfway down the hall before she even thought to slow down.

Her ears perked up at a sound. A scream of pain. Serana’s scream of pain. Natalie crept forward, her anger growing by the second. She stole a glance into the room she knew the vampire princess was in. It was almost a temple, wooden pews stretching far into the room, with stone ones closer to the far wall. At the opposite end, just beyond where the pews stopped, a fountain sat, streaming with what Natalie thought at first glance was water. When she looked harder, she realised it was blood, flowing freely and seemingly without end. How Harkon had obtained such a piece, she didn’t want to think about.

The rooms four occupants stood in the centre, midway to the fountain. Two lackeys watched Harkon as he tortured his daughter.

“ _Daughter, daughter, daughter. What am I going to do with you?_ ” Harkon had his clawed hand wrapped around Serana’s throat, holding her high in the air. She wasn’t even struggling against his hold, her limbs hanging loosely beside her. Harkon ran a claw down her side, cutting deep into the soft flesh of her abdomen. Blood was dripping from the wound and smaller cuts on her body, forming a small pool on the floor. Serana couldn’t help but scream, the pain too great to remain silent. “ _I can see your mother’s influence. That feeble little creature out there, impaled to the stone, hers is there as well._ ” He brought her closer, Serana staring back with tired eyes, “ _Letting you live would be a great mistake, one I do not intend to make._ ” Serana spat in his face, some blood coming with her saliva to spatter on Harkon’s grey cheek. He wiped it off with his free hand, a sneer crossing his face, “ _Your blood has no use anymore you little bitch. You are nothing._ ” Harkon’s free hand was wreathed in the darkness of a life-draining spell, rearing back at the same time as he tightened around Serana’s throat.

“ **Have you ever been hunted?** ” Harkon’s hand froze halfway to Serana’s chest. Serana gasped at the voice, utterly overjoyed to hear it once more, but at the same time, absolutely confused. Harkon threw his daughter, Serana hitting the far wall with a yelp and the crack of several of her bones. She slid to the floor, struggling to sit up and trying to figure out where her saviour’s voice had come from. “ **I have. For almost my whole life. The Silver Hand for being a werewolf. The Cult of the Dragonborn, for simply BEING. Assassins, hired by people I’ve offended or whose family I killed. An entire empire tried to hunt me down.** ” The voice laughed, deep and booming, echoing through the entire temple, seemingly coming from every direction, “ **Hell, even the Daedric Lords have wanted a piece of me from time to time.** ”

Harkon and his lackeys spun in place, searching for the source of the voice. They would never find it. They would never see her coming.

“ **No… of course you haven’t. Always the predator. Never the prey. You don’t know what it’s like.** ”

As Harkon turned his back to one of his servants, the voice attacked, taking the servant into the shadows. The leader of Clan Volkihar twisted to face the muffled screams and found nothing but darkness. The voice bit down hard into her victim’s throat, fangs tearing through the flesh like it was paper. Blood ran down her chin with the first swallow, easily ending the prey’s life.  Two more bites, and the head came loose, his body slumping down to the floor, blood spewing onto the ground from the ruin of his neck. The head came rolling to Harkon’s clawed feet, bouncing off his calf.

“ **Just like me, you’ve never known true defeat. Not before today.** ” A shadow rushed in front of Harkon, with a brief flash of golden light, and it was gone. “ **You don’t know what fear is. You don’t know what it’s like to look over your shoulder every second of every day, waiting, just… waiting… for that next knife in the back.** ”

Harkon growled his frustrations. How could this be? He had killed this insect, she was dead. He had made sure of it. He’d seen the life drain from her eyes himself. The second lackey held more tightly onto his sword, searching for the voice’s owner, just the same as his master. A spell glowed in his hand, ready to release at a moment’s notice.

An ear-splitting scream followed by the soft flow of a liquid onto the stone floor caught Harkon’s attention. He turned slowly, shocked to see the sight. His last minion was dead. His sword had been torn from his grasp, his body forced to his knees, before the blade had been shoved under his chin and out the top of his head. Blood cascaded down the vampire’s chest, his body still quivering from the fatal wound. A faint gurgling issued from his throat; the gaping wound having killed him instantly. The hilt was braced on the ground, holding the body upright.

“ **You’ve remained here for centuries, searching for the daughter you’d never find. Until me. I found her. I brought her back to the world.** ” Serana thought she saw the briefest image of Natalie in front of her, but it couldn’t have been. The woman who had been there was covered in golden light, the eyes shining down on her. But still, somehow comforting. “ **I’ve spent decades becoming the most powerful being on Nirn. All the while, you did NOTHING. Searching in vain. Even the Lord you’d promised yourself to, remaining silent. You’re pathetic, Harkon. And you deserve everything that’s coming your way.** ” The voice bellowed out laughter once more, “ **In fact, I have a gift for you! For all the efforts you’ve put in to achieving your goals. I’m going to give you FEAR. You’re going to feel it. Be consumed by it. Know it at the very depths of your soul. What I’ve felt for my entire life, I’m going to make sure of it. And then... you will die.** ”

Finally, she charged her true target. Serana watched in amazement as Natalie appeared out of thin air above Harkon. She fell, landing on his back and grasping the base of the monster’s wings. With a roar, Natalie pushed and tore them off, a spray of blood filling the air. She flipped over in the air, landing barely a metre away, the membranous extensions still clutched in her hands.

It was the father’s turn to scream, not in the heat of battle, but in agony. The sound of Harkon’s pain filling the air just the same as his daughter’s had, pain like he’d never felt before. He collapsed to one knee, blood pouring down his back from the stumps that had replaced his wings. His rage magnified tenfold, roaring and twisting to attack with all of his terrible might. His clawed hand swung around, preparing to strike the uppity elf for daring to injure him.

He only pushed aside the air. Natalie had seen it coming, cocking her head at the grey skin speeding towards her. She ducked, the arm whistling over her head, not even remotely close to hitting her.

Harkon only had time to glance down at the elf in front of him. Where had this speed and strength come from? This could not be the same being he had fought and killed less than an hour ago. Not the same one he’d driven the blades through. The golden glow nearly burned him from its sheer intensity. He could see it was wreaking havoc on the elf’s body, but it didn’t even show in her facial expressions, completely impassive as she stared up at him.

Natalie breathed deeply in, preparing her own attack. She would make him hurt, make him suffer for everything he’d done. She closed her eyes for the briefest instant, the power almost instantly beginning to burn the inside of her eyelids with nowhere to go. They flew open, renewing the burn on Harkon’s skin.

“ ** _FUS_** ”

“ ** _RO_** ”

“ ** _DAH!_** ”

Harkon’s eyes widened for the instant before Natalie’s Shout hit him. He’d dodged it in their previous fight, he’d felt the force. This was on a whole other level. She’d struck him from below, in the centre of his chest. He was propelled into the air, no wings to correct his course this time. His path continued, colliding with the roof, shaking the entire building with the force. He fell straight down, crashing into the fountain of blood. The entire structure crumbled beneath him, leaving him in a pool of that which had sustained him for centuries.

He spluttered in the pool, struggling to clamber to his feet. “ _YOU IMPUDENT GNAT!_ ” Harkon took a step out of the fountain, leaving a trail of blood along with cracking the floor as his feet crashed down, “ _YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME?! I AM LORD OF THIS WORLD! I AM KING! WHO ARE YOU TO STRIKE AT ME?!_ ”

Natalie calmly regarded the wrathful monster in front of her, a slight smirk curling the edges of her lips. “ **It’s simple really. A god.** ”

Harkon looked stunned at the elf. She thought herself a god? He had killed her; he could do it again. “ _YOU ARE NO GOD! AND YOU WILL DIE FOR YOUR LIES!_ ”

Harkon’s hands filled with huge flaming orbs, immediately combined into one and released as a giant twisting beam straight towards Natalie. She sighed, simply raising her gauntlet and holding it steady. The flames collided with her, billowing out to either side. A steady, small flow of frost magic entirely nullified the fire’s effect of heating up her gauntlet.

Soon, the vampire lord stopped casting, the magic dissipating away from him. Natalie stood there, gauntlet raised, not a single sign that the spell had even reached her. Her gauntlet lowered, staring the monster down. She drew two daggers, falling back into a simple stance. She activated a small spell, lightning streaming off every tattoo and striking the ground around her. “ **Come. Give me your best shot.** ”

Harkon roared, immediately charging at his foe. Natalie stood her ground, not moving a single inch. To Serana, her father’s arms were a blur, punching and slashing at Natalie. She stood rooted to the spot, moving her torso with perfect precision, every blow swinging wide or just barely missing. Small cuts and burns began to appear on Harkon’s skin, how they’d gotten their imperceptible to even Serana’s heavily enhanced vampiric senses. Natalie’s whole body seemed to be vibrating, the edges of her arms blurred.

The vampire princess realised what was happening. Natalie was moving so fast; her movements were invisible to both father and daughter. Her attacks were instantaneous to them, not even a sliver of a chance for Harkon to defend against them. Serana could see that every small slice or burn Natalie made was not intended to truly injure Harkon, only to enrage him further. She was holding true to her word. Natalie’s plan became clear. She would outclass Harkon in every single way during their battle, before she would finally give him the release of death.

Natalie began to slow down, deliberately showing her movements to her opponent. Harkon took the opportunity to speed up, trying to catch the elf off guard. Suddenly, Natalie’s daggers were gone, back in their sheaths and she was weaponless. Harkon’s rage grew further, trying to push Natalie backwards. She dodged a final strike, slamming the palm of her gauntlet into his chest. Harkon flew backwards, landing hard on the ground and sliding to a stop.

“ **Are you even trying? You fight like a child who’s had his toy taken away.** ” Harkon closed the distance once more, Natalie dancing away from the blow. She flashed out with her gauntlet, raking deep cuts across his chest. “ **You’re going to bleed to death if you keep this up, and where’s the fun in that?** ”

“ _SHUT UP!_ ” Harkon’s anger was evident, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath. “ _YOU ARE DIRT BENEATH MY FEET! I WILL END YOU AND MY WAYWARD DAUGHTER!_ ”

Natalie drew a silver sword, its metal shining with the golden light streaming off her. The blade ignited with white flames, jumping to nearly a foot off the blade. Harkon summoned one of his own, an ethereal blade the size of Natalie’s entire body. He swung it with all the strength he could muster, Natalie bending backwards at her hips while the blade sliced through the air above her. Repeatedly the blade came for her, Natalie ducking and weaving away from it every time.

Natalie could sense the rage fuelling Harkon’s strikes, making him sloppy. There was no skill or technique in his swordsmanship, only the desperate attempts of an enemy who could not admit he was outclassed. But he knew it deep down; he was no longer in the same league as his opponent. She had transcended his power in every way. She was stronger, faster and far more powerful.

She rushed past the sword one last time, grabbing his ankle and pulling him into the air with a single hand. The shock of the sudden movement shattered his concentration of maintaining the spell, his weapon disappearing in a cloud of sparks. Natalie slammed him into the floor, cracking the bone in her grip. She lifted him again, ensuring she made him land directly on the stumps of his wings. Harkon hit the floor four more times before Natalie finally tossed him away, slamming through several wooden pews, turning them to splinters and shattering the stone of several more.

Harkon stormed forward the moment he was back on his feet. He made a fatal mistake. His arm came around, hoping to take Natalie’s whole torso out in one fell swoop. Natalie simply lifted one hand; his blow harmless coming to a complete stop against her gauntlet. She used his moment of shock to her advantage. Lifting the sword up, she burnt the leather away from the grip, stepped forward and buried the blade all the way to the hilt in Harkon’s chest. If she’d aimed just right, it would have just missed his heart by the tiniest margin possible.

Harkon stumbled back, eyes widening. Never before had he been injured so severely. He stared at the sword for what seemed like an eternity. The weapons enchantments were active in full force, burning his skin away, his extreme regeneration barely able to keep up with it. The skin around the edge of the wound flitted between grey and his natural skin colour, the magic working overtime to transform him back to his humanoid form. His blood cascaded down his chest, joining the twin flows from his back. Harkon reached up to the blade, intent on ripping it from his body and killing the elf before him with it. The moment he gripped it, he screamed, hand flying away from it. The silver’s poisonous influence had made itself known. Every single piece of skin had been melted from his palm; the shining silver of the hilt not even marred in the slightest by his touch.

“ _HOW DARE YOU!_ ” Harkon yelled in disbelief. “ _YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!_ ”

“ **You keep saying things like that, but so far you’ve failed to land even a single blow. Face it. You’re outclassed.** ”

“ _NO! IT IS YOU WHO ARE OUTCLASSED!_ ” Serana could hear the confidence in her father’s voice waver. From her vantage point, she could see into his eyes. What she saw wasn’t fear. Not quite. Denial, if she had to give a word for it. “ _I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER FOR THIS TRANSGRESSION!_ ”

Once again, he made to attack Natalie. This time, she didn’t even try to use her full speed. Her fists rose up, wreathed in lightning, batting aside Harkon’s arms and crashing against his side. His ribs cracked with every punch; the force almost visible in the way it disturbed the dust on the floor. His skin was electrified, sparks crackling away from every point of impact.

Natalie drove him backwards, getting on the other side of him when they came too close to a wall. Harkon was attempting to battle while still having the silver blade embedded in his chest. The sword hampered his already slower movements, making it impossible to have a full range of motion. “ **YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO DEFEAT AN ENEMY MORE POWERFUL THAN YOU! YOU’VE NEVER DONE IT! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MUST SACRFICIE TO DO IT!** ”

At Natalie’s words, Harkon realised what she’d done to gain so much power and come back from the dead. Even while he was being beaten back, he spoke, “ _You took the power they offered you? You would give up your freedom just to stop me?_ ”

Natalie’s face twisted with rage. She leapt into the air, spinning and landing a full force kick to the side of Harkon’s head. He went soaring through the air, crashing through the destroyed fountain and colliding with the far wall.

“ **YOU THINK I WANT THIS?! I’VE NEVER WANTED TO TAKE THIS FUCKING POWER! I’VE NEVER WANTED TO GIVE EVERYTHING I HAVE JUST TO DESTROY THINGS LIKE YOU! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, I’M FORCED INTO THIS FUCKING SHIT! TO LET THESE DEMONS GIVE ME POWER!** ” She fired a barrage of fire balls and ice lances at a weak ward Harkon had managed to produce. The shield lit up with every strike, cracking under the bombardment. “ **YOU MADE ME DO THIS! YOUR DEATH IS ON YOUR OWN HEAD!** ”

Natalie gave up on the magic, instead choosing to use her fists. She seemingly teleported to the ward, landing punch after punch into the magical barrier. After only a few blows, the ward shattered, her fist meeting with Harkon’s jaw. She pulled him to his feet, forcing him against the wall. Her fists were a blur, cracking and further breaking bones in his chest with every collision.

Harkon grunted with every punch, trying in vain to defend himself. He still could not accept that there was no way he could win this fight. He still had one last trick up his sleeve. He managed to get one arm behind him, even as Natalie continued her unrelenting assault. The small black ball of writhing tentacles formed in his hand, growing in intensity by the second. He attempted to find a break in Natalie’s attack, realising there was none. He opted for a surprise attack, suddenly pulling his arm out and rushing it toward Natalie’s face.

Natalie saw it coming. Her assault stopped, her hand coming up and grabbing Harkon’s wrist before the orb could even get within striking distance of her. She held it there with no effort, Harkon using all of his might to try to push it forward. His other fist came around, caught in Natalie’s gauntlet with the same lack of effort. He saw no alternative, attacking in the way she’d done when he’d caught her in this position.

Harkon brought his head forward, slamming his forehead into Natalie’s nose. The exact opposite of what he wanted happened. Natalie remained unmoved, not even blinking, the golden glow still pouring from her eyes. Harkon’s nose exploded as the force of the blow reverberated through his skull and made the bone shatter, cracking his cheek bones and sending blood spraying into the air. Natalie threw the hand from her gauntlet, reaching up and taking the black magic from his grasp. She stared at the orb for a moment, intrigued as to why he thought this tactic would work on her now. She crushed it, instantly ending the connection Harkon had with it.

Natalie regained her hold on both wrists, fire pulsing from beneath her feet. She rose up, using her far superior strength to turn Harkon so he faced the almost empty temple. She breathed in, floating in front of her enemy. She headbutted him, further breaking his skull. Harkon crashed into the stone floor, carving a path of destruction as he was thrown away from the elf.

She drew the second silver blade, ready to attack once more. She waited till Harkon had gotten back to his feet before attacking. She leant forward, the fire from her feet propelling her to Harkon’s position. Her shoulder crashed into him, forcing him to slide backwards, immediately followed by Natalie, slashing at him with the silver blade. To Harkon’s surprise, he managed to block some blows with his claws, while still others made it through his guard and sliced his skin. Every cut she made burned; the magic intertwined into the blade’s metal attempting to force his body to change back to his humanoid form.

Harkon began to lose control of his form, with places the blade had yet to touch slowly reverting back. He used all of his concentration to maintain the vampire lord transformation, but this only led to more injuries from the enchanted sword. With one embedded in his chest and the other slicing his skin, he was entirely on the backfoot, unable to both defend himself and prevent his body from changing.

Serana could see the look in Harkon’s eyes changing. It still wasn’t quite fear, but it was close. Natalie had managed to dominate the battle, not a single scratch on her, a feat Serana had thought almost impossible. She was almost toying with Harkon at this point, obviously not using the full range of power her new strength would have allowed. But, Serana could see something else, and it wasn’t in Harkon. While the power Natalie had was immense, it was taking a heavy toll on her. The cracks in her skin spilling the golden light into the air were widening, further destabilising Natalie’s body. She needed to end this soon, or she wouldn’t be able to.

Natalie roared one final time, fire spilling from her mouth and burning Harkon. With one strike from her gauntlet, Harkon’s guard was shattered, Natalie stepping through his defences and burying her weapon next to its twin. She'd repeated her actions, this time on the other side of his heart. The leather of the grip melted away, ensuring Harkon would be unable to remove the blade even if he tried.

Natalie continued to rotate around Harkon, breaking bones with every strike. The vampire lord didn’t even attempt to follow her movements, too shocked at the second sword buried within his chest. Natalie was directly behind him, pummelling his back and breaking several parts of his spine. She drew two daggers, stabbing and slashing at every inch of exposed skin. Finally, she slotted them into his spine with precision, perfectly severing the vital column. Harkon collapsed to his knees, catching his body with his hands, but unable to move his legs.

The Dragonborn appeared in front of him, near the fountain of blood, with Harkon falling back onto his heels, barely able to keep his body upright. The elf brought her elbows in close, fists clenched tight. With a deafening yell, a fiery aura appeared around her, accentuated by lightning striking the ground around her, along with hitting the roof. Natalie brought her hands in close, concentrating all of her power into one final attack.

A small spark of flame appeared and was almost immediately snuffed out between her hands. It did this several times before actualising, the brightness of it blinding. Tendrils of magic erupted from every single one of Natalie’s tattoos, slowly making their way to the orb. With each one that connected, the power within it grew, its surface becoming more erratic and unstable.

Huge bolts of lightning came off of Natalie, smashing apart stone fixtures throughout the room. None hit Harkon, the vampire lord still struggling to remove the daggers from his back and perhaps regain the ability to move. Every time he got a finger on one of the hilts, the pain coming from the swords through his chest was too great, and his arms would rush forward to prevent himself from collapsing to the floor fully.

Natalie poured even more of her power into the flaming orb between her hands. She could feel the magic ravaging her body as it thundered through her, the carefully constructed pathways she had previously had non-existent. Without them, it leaked out of her in every direction, painfully exiting her. Her eyes glanced at Serana, still sitting against the far wall, injured, but not dead. The vampire princess was mesmerised by the power Natalie was displaying, unable to tear her eyes away from the one person she still cared about. Natalie knew, if this spell went off and Serana was anywhere near it without any sort of protection, she would die, instantly incinerated by the impossibly hot flames.

The elf began to rise off the ground, the magic pulling her up into the air. Harkon stopped his efforts to remove any of the weapons penetrating his body. He could only stare at the being in front of him. The most powerful being on all of Nirn, to be sure. And he was about to be killed by her.

Harkon again attempted to remove the daggers in his back to no avail. The swords in his chest only melted off the skin of his palms every time he tried to grasp them. Blood pooled under Harkon from his grievous wounds, almost making him slip fully onto the ground every time he fell forward. He looked up into Natalie’s shining golden eyes, “ _Please… stop… don’t kill… me..._ ”

Natalie’s face betrayed none of the extreme wrath she felt, “ **Don’t kill you? Just like you didn’t kill me? If I’d begged for my life, would you have spared me?** ” The anger came through, “ **WOULD YOU?! I’M NOT GOING TO STOP! NOT UNTIL YOU ARE ASHES BENEATH MY FEET! YOU DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE IN MY WORLD!** ” She redoubled her efforts, almost every last bit of her magical power rushing into the orb. It immediately increased in size, Natalie raising her hands over her head as it continued to expand. She roared, ethereal dragon wings sprouting from her back, the tips touching the edges of the room. Her eyes flitted to Serana, pleading with the vampire princess, “ **Serana, ward.** ”

Serana understood the request immediately. She struggled her way to just behind where Natalie floated, preparing to cast the moment she needed to. Her unhealed injuries left a trail of blood in her wake, but she didn’t care. She would save Natalie.

“ _What are you? How can one mortal have this much strength?_ ” Harkon’s acceptance was obvious. He knew what was about to happen to him.

Natalie looked down at her enemy, coldly regarding the wrathful vampire. The wings flexed around her, her voice echoed through the whole castle, “ **I AM THE LAST DRAGONBORN. I AM A GOD. AND… I. AM. YOUR. DEATH.** ”

She let the last piece of her power come through into the orb, the golden light of her tattoos and eyes wavering once it had. With one last deafening bellow, Natalie came crashing to the ground, thrusting her arms in front of her and firing the hugely powerful orb straight at Harkon. The wings and the golden glow left her completely, not even the vampiric red of her eyes remaining for more than a second. They changed back to forest green as she fell backwards, the force of casting the spell too much for her leg muscles to hold her up.

Serana braced herself, Natalie’s body collapsing into her. She cast the most powerful ward she possibly could, enveloping herself and Natalie. She finished the cast, holding her arms steady with the spell radiating out from them.

Time seemed to slow down for Serana. She looked up at her father. The man she had loved millennia ago was kneeled before her, wounded so greatly he could not even rise. The swords in his chest and back held him fast, unable to do anything to prevent the spell from hitting him. The orb made its way to him agonisingly slow. It gave time for Serana to truly look at him. What she saw in her father’s eyes as the flaming ball passed between the two silver blades was something she’d never seen before.

Just as the orb struck, Natalie fulfilled her promise to Harkon. It pulsed from him, consuming every fibre of his being.

FEAR.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 8:20am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Volkihar Island**

 

All was quiet outside the castle. The Dawnguard had rounded up and killed the last of Harkon’s vampires, along with their thralls. They now played the waiting game. Either Natalie would win with the power Torbald had seen her with, or they would have to launch an all-out assault on the castle itself.

Torbald tapped the hilt of the ebony blade at his hip incessantly. They’d just been standing here, no indication of when or if they should attack. Natalie’s tiger sat by his side, becoming restless. It knew something was happening to Natalie, Torbald was sure of it. However she had enchanted the beast, he now had an irrevocable bond with the elf. If only it could speak. Tell the leader of the Dawnguard what was happening, or at least whether or not Natalie was still alive.

A roaring sound shook the entire island. The ground began to shake along with the noise, nearly knocking many of the Dawnguard from their feet. Torbald stared at the castle as every window began to glow with orange light. All at once, every single piece of glass shattered, flames shooting from all of them. Every wall of the castle immediately had huge cracks running through them. The hole in the roof of the great hall spewed fire high into the sky, illuminating the island as though it was midday, instead of the red light the sun had been taken over by.

Torbald could only watch as the castle was surrounded by flames. Just as quickly as they had come, the fire died down, leaving only charred ruins in its place. Small bits still burned, but he knew the castle would soon collapse from the explosion.

There was no way anything could have survived that blast. Harkon would be dead, he was sure of it. They had defeated the great menace that had faced Skyrim.

But at the same time, they had lost.

Nirn had just lost its two best defenders, he was sure of it.

Natalie and Serana, were dead.

 

* * *

 

**Loredas, 8:20am, 22 nd of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Temple, Volkihar Castle**

 

Serana held up the ward against the explosion Natalie had unleashed against her father. The fire seemed to have no end, a barrage of unending flame attempting to breach her ward. The magical barrier began to show cracks, unable to handle the stress of holding back a god’s power. The more energy she poured through her body, the more the ward seemed to flex and weaken underneath the strain. Serana hoped against hope that she was strong enough for this, despite her wounds. She felt so weak. But she had to keep going, she would not lose Natalie twice.

Just when she thought she would no longer be able to hold the ward up, no matter how much she desperately wanted to, the explosion stopped. Outside the bubble of protection she had created, everything was charred and blackened. Serana let go, slumping forward onto her hands and knees, gasping for breath. Serana looked up, finding Natalie’s body less than a foot away from her, rolled over with the elf’s back to her.

Serana crawled forward to Natalie’s body, tears appearing at the edges of her vision. “Please don’t be dead Natalie. Please, I need you.” She rolled the elf’s body over, propping her up in the crook of her elbow. Serana reached forward with her free hand, gently brushing her fingers down Natalie’s bruised cheek. A soft breath came from the elf’s mouth, barely audible even in the silence of their surroundings. “Thank the divines.” Serana leant forward, kissing Natalie’s forehead and hugging the elf’s prone body to her chest.

A sudden intake of breath from nearby caused Serana to freeze, her eyes flying open. Her head rose up, a horrified expression on her face as she stared at a charred mass on the stone floor. She kissed Natalie’s forehead once more, carefully laying the Dragonborn down on the ground. Serana struggled to her feet, avoiding looking at the source of the breath.

She scanned the room, searching for the one thing that could end it all. Right in the corner of the room, somehow completely untarnished by Natalie’s magic, she found it. Auriel’s Bow, undamaged and still shining brightly. Serana limped her way to it, lifting it into her hands. She drew an arrow from the nearby quiver. She would only need one arrow for what she would have to do.

Serana painfully made her way over to the burnt fleshy sack on the ground. She stood over it, cocking the arrow and pulling the string back slightly. The thing that had once been her father rolled over, looking up into her eyes. Somehow, Harkon’s eyes had remained undamaged, the blood red shining out from the blackened flesh surrounding them. Not a single patch of his skin remained, all burned and melted by Natalie’s magic. The blades that had been impaled through his chest were now only a disc of melted silver, covering the centre of his chest. Natalie’s spell had been so powerful, it had overwhelmed the enchantments on the Twin Swords of Auriel and destroyed them, leaving only the materials that had made them behind.

“ _Help me… daughter…”_ Harkon’s whisper reached Serana’s ears, his words unbelievable.

“Help you?” She seethed with rage, “HELP YOU?!” Her scream sliced through the air, echoing off the castle’s walls. “AFTER WHAT YOU JUST DID TO ME?! YOU TREID TO KILL ME! AFTER WHAT YOU JUST DID TO NATALIE?! YOU KILLED HER, AND YOU WOULD HAVE DONE IT AGAIN IF SHE HADN’T STOPPED YOU!” Tears ran down her cheeks, “You killed her. And there was nothing I could do stop you. But at least she helped me see you for what you truly are. A monster who cares for nothing but itself. My father is dead. He died the moment he decided power was more important than his own daughter or his wife. I’m just here to murder the thing that replaced him.”

A croak came from the burned husk that had once been Harkon, “ _We are above her._ ”

Serana almost snapped then and there. “ABOVE HER?!” She had never heard more infuriating words come from this things mouth, “DOES YOUR ARROGANCE KNOW NO BOUNDS EVEN NOW?! I am lucky to have even met her!” She snarled down at Harkon, “She is so much better than I am. She has sacrificed EVERYTHING for this fucking world! And what for? To be betrayed at every turn, to have THINGS like you try to kill her! To have the father of her child try to cut her out of her own daughter’s life! To have those who she could call friend turn around and stab her in the back the moment she had finished helping them! YOU THINK SHE WANTED THIS?! To die only to come back and almost die again?!” All the rage and pain she had ever felt for her father came crashing through her, tears cascading down her cheeks as she locked eyes with him, “I NEVER WANTED THIS! I NEVER WANTED TO BE A FUCKING VAMPIRE! YOU AND MY MOTHER TORE OUR FAMILY APART WHEN YOU HAD US TURNED! ALL SO YOU COULD LIVE LONGER AND CRUSH THOSE YOU THINK BENEATH YOU FOR ETERNITY!” She glanced back at the still body of Natalie, chest barely rising and falling with each shallow breath, “The only even remotely good thing that has come out of this whole mess is that I lived long enough to meet someone who didn’t care that I was a vampire, and didn’t want anything from me. Didn’t care what she could gain from me. She cares about me for me and I…” At that exact moment, Serana came to a stunning realisation, “And I love her for it. I love her.” She broke her gaze with the woman she loved, her expression changing to one of complete rage as her eyes fell on the shell of melted skin and bone beneath her, “Something you’ll never understand you fucking monster.

Harkon didn’t care for her words. He only cared about getting back to what he was meant for. Ruling over the masses like the king he was. “ _Please… Serana… I am your father… your flesh and blood… I-_ ”

Before he could go any further, Serana pulled the string back violently on Auriel’s Bow and suddenly released. The arrow took its short trip into the vampire lord, penetrating in the exact centre point between his eyes. A look of shock crossed through his eyes, amazed his daughter would do it. The vampiric red in his eyes ever so slowly faded, replaced by gold, just the same as her own. She hadn’t seen it since the day Molag Bal had turned them.

Auriel’s Bow fell loose in hands, Serana’s chest rising and falling with heavy painful sobs. Despite all of her father’s deeds, he had still been her father. And she had killed him.

With the bow and quiver strapped firmly over her chest, she turned away from the incinerated corpse and the arrow standing straight out of it. She came over to Natalie, carefully lifting the elf into her arms. Serana held her close, resting her head on top of the auburn mane. Slowly, she limped out of the temple, and through the halls of the place she had once called home. She didn’t even look up as she crossed through the great hall, gingerly picking her way through the rubble so as not to disturb Natalie.

They made it outside, the stone bridge groaning even under their small weight. Serana saw the Dawnguard army amassed before her, glad to see that they had managed to rout her father’s forces. The moment she and Natalie came into view, the army cheered, a few men and women rushing to greet them. Torbald’s voice rang out, the runners grinding to a halt. He saw Natalie in Serana’s arms, either grievously injured or possibly dead.

Torbald marched to them, Serana falling to her knees out of exhaustion, doing her best not to drop Natalie onto the muddy ground. He approached cautiously, eyeing the limp body of his grandmother. He felt his mouth run dry, having to heavily swallow to be able to speak, “Is she...?”

Serana looked up at the words, nodding to reassure Torbald, “She’s alive, Torbald. I don’t know when she will wake though. What she did… it has taken a heavy toll on her.” The vampire princess tenderly smoothed the hair down on one side of Natalie’s face. “But I think she will recover.”

Torbald could see that Serana herself was injured, blood staining her most of her chest. “Do you want me to carry her?”

“No. Just need to rest here for a moment. I’ve got her.” Serana would not let Natalie out of her sight until she was absolutely certain she would wake up. She couldn’t let her go now.

“Ok.” Torbald looked to the blackened sky. “I guess there’s only one thing left to fix.” Before Torbald could ask for the bow, he heard something. Something running towards him from behind. He turned, only just reacting fast enough to it.

Torbald sank to his knees as he caught the greatsword that had been swinging from above him. He felt it cut into his palms, letting out a cry of pain. He looked into the face of his attacker, only slightly shocked at his identity.

Isran.

The former leader of the Dawnguard pushed down even harder, wounding Torbald’s hands further, “I won’t let you set them loose on the world. They both die here and now.”

Torbald felt his rage growing. “Natalie was right about you. You can’t see past your own hatred. You are incapable of growing and understanding anything outside of your tiny life.” Something was surging up through him. He felt power he’d never felt before. His hands crackled with a tiny amount of electricity, just enough to visibly display itself. Slowly he pushed back, the greatsword moving back up as he rose back to his feet. He suddenly jerked forward, pulling Isran forward and slamming his plated elbow into the Redguard’s nose. “I won’t let you kill them. You are the one that is going to die Isran.”

Torbald threw the sword down, feeling the deep cuts on his palms. He ignored them, curled his fingers into fists, and advanced on the elder man in front of him. Small sparks of lightning travelled over his knuckles, only really serving to make him look more intimidating then actually hurting Isran in any way.

Every blow Torbald made was blocked, Isran’s strikes defended against at the same time. Both men had been trained well, evenly matched despite their age and experience difference. Torbald refused to draw his sword, trying to make this as fair a fight as possible. He would not stop to Isran’s level. Where the Redguard had attempted a surprise attack, Torbald would not draw a weapon against an unarmed man. He would not forsake his honour like that.

No member of the Dawnguard made to come help, the subtle shake of Torbald’s head forbidding them from interfering. Serana knew Natalie would have jumped in the middle if she had been awake, and Serana felt she should do the same. But her exhaustion was too great, she would likely only end up being in the way or being injured even more than she already was.

Both men soon began to tire, all of their fatigue from the previous battle starting to catch up with them. Their attacks slowed down, becoming much more defensive in nature. Still, neither could land a decisive blow on the other. Both could feel the bruises start to form underneath their armour from their fight, but would not give in, could not give in. Torbald’s youth soon made itself know, allowing him to land several heavy blows on Isran’s gut. He used everything Natalie had taught him about unarmed combat, his grandfather’s words echoing in his head, _Never forget your fists, they’re always there to help_. The young Nord landed a titanic blow on Isran’s jaw, sending the Redguard spinning to the ground. Next came the knee on Isran’s chest, holding him down into the mud. Torbald punched down, shattering the bone in Isran’s nose and staining his face with blood. The older man tried in vain to get the younger one off of him. He soon realised there was nothing he could do.

Isran gave up struggling, his arms falling flat on the ground beside him. Torbald motioned to his men, two coming forward and hauling Isran off the ground. Another soldier brought a rock, already reading the expression on Torbald’s face of what he was going to do. The two holding the former leader forced him to kneel, pushing his chest onto the rock so his head hung over.

Torbald’s expression was grim, not wanting to perform the act, but he knew he had to. He drew his sword, holding it out above Isran’s neck. “Isran. For the crime of attacking your commanding officer and threatening the lives of two other individuals, namely The Dragonborn and the Lady of Volkihar Island, I, Torbald, Commander of the Dawnguard, sentence you to die.”

Isran yelled out for all to hear, “You’ll all regret letting them live! Those two monsters will betray you the second they get the chance! Mark my wor-” The sword swung down without another moment’s hesitation, slicing clean through the Redguard’s neck and cutting his speech short. His head fell into the mud, his body soon following suit.

The sword re-entered its sheath. The pain from his sliced open hands finally made itself known, the blood dripping off his fingers. He grunted at it, clenching his fists to try and stop the bleeding.

“Torbald.” He turned to face Serana, one of her hands held in the air. “I can heal those, if you’ll let me.” He nodded, holding them out to the vampire princess. The soft healing magic knit his flesh back together, a wave of relief crashing over him.

“Thank you.” He flexed his hands back and forth, his full range of movement restored. He looked back up at the sky, “I think the sky needs a new colour, wouldn’t you agree?”

Serana took Auriel’s Bow from her back, handing Torbald the weapon along with an arrow. “And I think Natalie would want you to be the one to do it.”

Torbald took it, cocking the arrow and aiming at the black orb that had replaced the sun. The weapon seemed to know it was to be used for its intended purpose, the glow surrounding it intensifying until it was almost blinding. He released, the arrow like a shaft of pure light, speeding to its target. The instant the arrow disappeared from sight; a huge explosion of light issued from the sky above. The radiant beams from the sun raced across the sky, restoring it to its natural state.

Serana could swear a small smile came to Natalie’s lips as the light touched her face. She hoped the elf knew they had won. And if she didn’t, Serana would tell her. Tell her how she had once again saved everyone from a great evil. One only she was capable of combating.

As the light finished its path and all was restored to normal, Serana looked back at her family’s home. The castle seemed to know it was time, the roofs and walls crumbling inwards slowly. Somehow, the tower they’d found the portal to the Soul Cairn in remained standing. Whatever enchantments Valerica had put in place had withstood Natalie’s spell. There was still a chance for them to tell her mother they’d succeeded, if that was what Serana chose to do.

Serana rose to her feet, cradling Natalie and marching with the rest of the Dawnguard to the ship. She settled on the deck, closing her eyes and resting after their ordeal. Natalie’s tiger lay beside them, the warmth it gave off comforting both women.

They had won.

 

* * *

 

**Morndas, 6:40pm, 31 st of Morning Star, 4E 258**

**Riverwood**

 

Serana sat in a large armchair next to the bed, unmoved for several days. She had refused everyone’s request of taking her place. She had to be the one to be here. She had to know for sure. The fire in the corner burned brightly, Serana stoking it with a spell every few minutes.

She turned to look at the figure in the bed. Natalie had been laying in the bed for days, unmoving except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her damaged armour had been taken away and her body scrubbed of all the dirt and blood that had covered it during her battle. She would have several new scars from her ordeal, but when it was compared to the rest of her body, they were nothing.

Natalie’s eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the gentle light of the crackling fire. The wooden roof above her was unfamiliar, her location unknown. She couldn’t remember anything after releasing the spell at Harkon. How long had she been unconscious? And, where was she?

The elf turned her head, finding Serana’s smiling face. Natalie’s own lit up at the sight, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Serana reached out with both hands, enfolding Natalie’s right hand. Natalie squeezed back, glad for the contact. “Finally back in the land of the living.”

Natalie groaned as she sat up, “Feels like I died again to be honest.” She finally looked around the room, realising where she was, “How did we get here?” She looked at Serana frantically, face creased with concern, “Wait, how long have I been out?”

Serana gave a small laugh, “Relax Natalie. A bit over a week.” She moved to next the elf on the bed, wrapping her arm around Natalie’s shoulders. “There’s nothing you have to worry about.”

Natalie stared forward, resting her head on Serana’s shoulder, “It’s all over then. We can fina-”

She was interrupted by the door opening. A young woman walked in almost dropping the jug she was carrying. Natalie’s face broke out into an even bigger grin at the sight of her daughter. Serana moved off the bed, quietly closing the door as she left mother and daughter alone.

Maralin put the jug down, immediately moving in and wrapping her mother in a hug. Natalie responded in kind, holding her daughter tightly. Maralin moved back, placing her hands on Natalie’s shoulders, “You scared me.”

“Sorry. Being the Dragonborn does have its disadvantages. Like nearly dying every few years.” Maralin lightly swatted her mother on the arm. “I probably deserve that.”

“Oh, you most certainly do.” Maralin’s voice was full of mirth, just glad that her mother was alive. “You know, Torbald can’t stop talking about you. How much you taught him, how many times you’ve saved his life.” She smiled tenderly at Natalie. “Thank you for keeping your promise.”

Natalie thought back to all those months ago, when she’d left Torbald with Ralof. She’d said she was getting supplies. She didn’t technically lie, though she did more than just get supplies. She’d had a long conversation with Maralin about the whole situation. She’d promised Torbald would come back unharmed. She’d made sure it had happened. “I could never break that promise in a thousand years.”

“Careful, you might just live that long to break it.”

Natalie laughed, “Immortality is a funny thing.”

Maralin settled in beside her mother. “So… Serana seems nice.” Natalie’s cheeks were immediately darkened by a deep blush. She coughed, unsure of what to say to her daughter. Maralin bumped her shoulder into Natalie’s, “Mum. I’m happy for you. You deserve someone who makes you happy. And Serana obviously does.”

Natalie smiled to herself, folding her hands over each other, “She does. For the first time in a very long time, I can actually look forward to the future.”

Maralin suddenly got up off the bed, holding her hand out to her mother, “Come on, let’s get you back into the world.” Natalie took her hand, lifting her up off the bed. “You can tell me all about how my son is apparently the leader of an army.”

Natalie laughed, following her daughter out of the room.

 

* * *

 

**Tirdas, 12:00pm, 15 th of Sun’s Dawn, 4E 258**

**?**

 

Natalie kneeled on the floor of the void. The emptiness around her was absolute, just as it had been every other time she’d been here. But this time, she wasn’t here to gain power. She’d come here of her own volition for a completely different reason.

Figures approached from nowhere, three of them, stopping in front of Natalie and fixing her with enraged stares.

“ _Coming here wasn’t very smart, Dragonborn_.” The first’s voice slithered forward, dripping with malice.

_“You might even say, it’s insane._ ” Maniacal laughter issued from the second’s mouth.

“ _Although, it should be quite entertaining._ ” The third was jovial, but with underlying rage at the elf in front of it.

Natalie did not respond, waiting for the right moment to reveal her true purpose here. She was once again clad in her black-purple leather armour, completely restored to its former glory by Nocturnal. Auriel’s Bow was strapped across her back, shining through the darkness. Her ebony sword hung from her hip, returned to her by Torbald after she’d woken up.

The three Daedric Princes were becoming angrier by the second. Natalie’s lack of response only served to fuel their rage further. They marched forward as one, all preparing to strike Natalie and annihilate her soul down to nothingness, removing this thorn from their side. All three prepared magic, rearing back to release.

Natalie lifted her head and opened her eyes. Golden light pulsed out from them, a wave of force being released and striking all three of her enemies. Molag Bal, Sheogorath and Sanguine were taken off their feet and catapulted through the air. They all landed with bone crunching force, screams of pain issuing forth from them.

The Dragonborn rose to her feet, the glow of her power radiating out and illuminating the entire void. “ **I came here to tell you something. I’m coming for you.** ” She looked to the figure behind her, the same golden power pulsing from it. Serana stepped out next to Natalie, both women staring down their three foes.

They spoke as one, voices melding into a single rumbling storm, “ **WE’RE COMING FOR YOU!** ” With their last words, the two women disappeared in a flash of lightning, the echo of their threat still washing over the Daedric Princes only just picking themselves up from the floor.

They had just been threatened by mortals.

This would not stand.

Both of them would both suffer for this transgression.

They would lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished!  
> This is the first story I've ever actually finished properly, and frankly I'm amazed I did. Most of anything else I write barely gets past a few thousand words.  
> Thanks to all those that have left comments, they're truly appreciated.
> 
> Natalie and Serana will return... eventually. I have ideas for the second part of this, but it probably won't be written for a while.  
> I may also rewrite some parts of the earlier chapters. Get them up to the same standard as the later ones.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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